


I Walk the Line

by TheBlueBicycle



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Attempted Sexual Assault, Eventual Happiness, M/M, Older Rick, Slow Burn, Violence, Younger Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 38,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9218309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlueBicycle/pseuds/TheBlueBicycle
Summary: When Daryl's walked away by two officers he tells himself that his first year of adult hood could have gone worse. He could be dead, after all.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So, here we go. This was bouncing around in my head for like a whole week so I gave it a shot. Hope you enjoy!

_When Daryl's pulled over he knows that he's in trouble. The night is hot and it makes the collar of his shirt stick to him, sweat beading down the back of his neck. Keep your composure, he tells himself. There's two cops that smile at him when they realize just who was in Merle Dixon's truck. Merle's truck is recognizable throughout town and really Daryl should have known. Should have known not to take it, should have walked instead._

 

_"Well, well, what do we have here?" The one officer looks at him like he's a lion that's just spotted the perfect prey. There's a dog with them. It's wearing a bullet proof harness and it stares at him in a way that Daryl can only describe as suspicious. When the animal walks the car it starts growling, barking, pawing at the door. The officer's look positively gleeful. "Hey-- Wait, you guys know me. You know I ain't never done this shit- It ain't mine, this ain't my truck."_

 

_"You're Daryl Dixon. That's all we need to know, son."_

 

\---------------

 

"The jury finds the defendant guilty and the sentence will be one year in prison and a fine of five hundred dollars. The jury is free to leave now, this court is adjourned."

 

Daryl hears the squeak of fancy, polished shoes on the ground and he can feel his lawyer staring at him. The lawyer's just a kid, a person that he got by default when he couldn't scrounge up enough money for his own. The kid looks at him nervously, can't be much older than himself. "I told you, I told you that you should've just said it was yours--" Daryl cuts the boy off with a sharp looks and distantly has the urge to strangle him with that stupid red tie that the boy is wearing. That won't help the prison sentence, he thought dryly to himself. Besides, Daryl knew it wasn't his lawyers fault but he will not sit here and listen while his own lawyer tells him the things that he'd done wrong, as if he'd done this.

 

The judge stares at him for a moment and Daryl can't bring himself to look away. His life, for the unforeseeable future, is over. He knows what prison does to people. Knows what it did to Merle. The thought of his brother gets a fire running in his blood, makes him petty, makes him pathetic with the want to throw himself down in front of the judge and just plead, tell him that the drugs really weren't his. When Daryl's walked away by two officers, he tells himself that his first year of adult hood could have gone worse. He could be dead, after all.

 

\---------------

 

The first few days are a blur. The eighteen year old is stripped and searched and then changed back into orange prison clothes. They're too big for him but the guard doesn't seem to notice or care, so Daryl draws the drawstring of the pants as tight as he can get them and rolls the waistband once and then twice. The shirt isn't nearly as bad. He finds that he's glad to have something to cover himself in, even something that's ill fitting. He'd fought to keep his trembles to himself when his scars were bared open to the world and the guard had halted in the search, staring with curiosity. The shirt feels like a barrier.

 

Daryl then gets a quick check up by the doctor and he's sent on his way. Over the next few days Daryl's moved around quite a lot, to different cells, different areas and then he's finally there. In his final resting place, so to speak. He tells himself not to be so dramatic but some of the other inmates look at him in a way that makes him shiver with revulsion. The boy juts his bottom jaw forward and puts a mean glare on his face to ward off any further looks. This is the prison that he'll be in for the next year, he thinks with a sigh. Not all that much get's explained to him other than the regular rules and bigger violations that he may run into. He's asked to make a preapproved visitation list though really he won't be allowed to get a visitor for the first six weeks of his stay. He hesitates for a good long while before he writes down in a scrawl, Merle Dixon. He gets a chance at reduced time if he behaves well and that's what he holds onto.

 

It's when they throw him into a cell, that's when Daryl panics. He'd looked all around and saw that each cell before his had room for two. Two people in each. That meant he'd either get lucky enough to get an already empty cell or he'd be thrown into a cell that only had one person. Daryl had always known that he wasn't that lucky. Dixon's never were.

 

The cell is small, as to be expected. There's two beds, bunk beds and it makes Daryl wonder if anyone's ever fallen from the top bunk down to the hard, concrete floor. Again his luck refuses to show itself as there's already a man laying down in the bottom bunk and that means the top bunk is his.

 

"Grimes," The guard behind him barks. The man inside is laying in the bed with a book covering his face. He's able to see a cock of a brow and a hear a hum, legs crossed at the ankle in a relaxed posture. "You're getting someone new." At that the man finally looks up, sharp blue eyes finding Daryl. Daryl stares back and tells himself to grow a spine, to not look weak. He can't look weak. Not in front of a man that he'll be spending a year with. The book lowers and Daryl is able to see more of his face. The man's not particularly buff, he looks more tall and lean than anything else. His eyes are a light blue but there's something lurking behind them. Something that certainly isn't happiness. He has brown wavy hair and his face is freshly shaven. Something glints in the dim light and the teen recognizes it as a wedding band.

 

"What, we're putting sixteen year olds in prison now?" The man, Grimes, intones after a moment or two in a dry, calculating tone. The guard only snorts, snorts like they already know each other and are good friends. "He's eighteen. Fresh outta diapers. Try and make sure he doesn't piss himself, yeah?" The guard behind him laughs, boisterous and loud. He's got a ridiculous mustache and ginger hair. Grimes only huffs out a breath that seems lightly amused but doesn't say anything else. Daryl feels his skin heat and he can only glare as he's pushed further into the room before the guard goes swaggering off, whistling as he goes.

 

The door has locked behind him and he studies the room again to give himself something to focus on instead of the hyperventilating that his body wants to fall back on. The two bunks, the urinal. The little picture that's taped to the wall right beside Grimes. He can't study it for long, not when the man is staring at him so intensely. It's not the look that some of the other prisoners gave him. This is wariness, distrust and curiousness. Daryl swallows roughly, standing there as his eyes finally travel back to the man. The man who is staring right back at him. Their eyes meet and they stay like that for a second or two. Too long, Daryl thinks to himself and he cuts his gaze away. Out of the corner of Daryl's eyes he watched as the wavy haired one slowly raised the book back up to his face, noticing the tight knuckle grip that he suddenly had on the book. Daryl got onto the top bunk a moment later.

 

There's a knot in his chest that won't loosen. It refused. The silence is uncomfortable. It's tense. It makes him want to grab at his choppy blond locks and rip the tufts out of his head. Eventually the dim light goes off and there's shuffling. Daryl holds his breath until it quiets and he allows himself to shuffle under the blanket of his bunk as well. Daryl has a lot of wonders tonight. He wonders of who he's staying with. Was his cell mate a thief, a murderer, a drug dealer?

 

And then in a saddened, bitter thought, he wonders what Merle is doing tonight.

 

\---------------

 

_Drip, drop. Drip, drop. The blood is falling from his knuckles. He's covered in sweat and blood and he wants more. More blood. His anger has consumed him, his grief has taken away the last bit of sanity that he had. The sirens wail in the background._

 

_"Brother-- Brother, please- You can't do this. Man, don't make me use these on you!" He ignores his brother. He's too far gone now. He knows that, knows that what he's done can't simply be undone. There's a swear word, cursed and bitten off and then he hears the footsteps. He doesn't pay them much mind. He can't, not when he's like this. Not when his hands are too busy trying to squeeze the life out of someone, trying to show him how much pain he'd caused him. Not when his blue eyes are filled to the brim with insanity. Grief has taken him and transformed him into something dangerous, into something ugly. Then there's burly arms around him and he's tackled to the ground._

 

_"Oh God, Rick. What've you done? Brother, what've you done?"_

 

_What I had to do, Rick thinks to himself when cuffs are linked to his wrists._


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jobs rotate most times. Have fun in the fields."

Daryl wakes to the sound of shuffling. Then, a stream of something hitting a hard surface. 

Groggily, he rolls over onto his side that's facing outwards and almost mutters for Merle to keep quiet when he realizes that Merle isn't here. Merle isn't anywhere near here. God only knows where the elder Dixon is at this point. Daryl's body stiffens straight away when it all comes flooding back. The guards, the orange clothes, the man that he'd be staying with for the next year. His eyes open quick and he looks into the semi dark cell, able to see the shape of the man near the urinal. The teen quickly turns away and gives the man- Grimes, he remembers, some privacy in hopes that when he has to use the bathroom he'll be given the same curtesy. More shuffling is heard and Daryl knows that he's made too much noise in his turning and can feel eyes staring into his back, right at him. 

He doesn't look back. 

Eventually Daryl comes down from his bunk, wiping the sleep away and off of his eyes as he looks around to where Grimes is sitting on his bed again, reading that same book but before long the man put the book down and came to stand over near him. Well, everything here is near, he supposes given how small the space is. Daryl nearly backs up and opens his mouth but he realizes why Rick had gotten up. They were being let out. 

Everyone seems to be going towards one general area and so Daryl follows, losing sight of his cellmate quickly in the crowd of men. Daryl can smell something in the air, something that smells like food or at least it might. 

It's breakfast. 

The cell block is big but quickly filling up with people that show hunger in their eyes. There's a long line leading to where they're actually serving food but Daryl sticks to his spot, not wanting to risk cutting in front of someone. He spots Grimes again. He's towards the front of the line but he isn't talking to anyone. He's not associating with the other prisoners like some of the others are. Some of these men are laughing with one another while others just lazily walk about, still half asleep but muttering with their companions. Grimes, however, is doing none of that. He looks wide awake and doesn't open his mouth, just walks on his way when the line moves. The older one doesn't seem to have any personal relationships with the other inmates and that puzzles Daryl but his thoughts get interrupted as he's shoved forward by a much larger man, huffing at him to "Pay attention," Since the line had moved. 

Daryl doesn't argue, not when it's technically his fault. He just juts his bottom jaw out and catches up with the line. 

 

\---------------

 

Breakfast is rubbery eggs, a piece of toasted bread and brown sauce- Which he's guessing is gravy, atop of what tastes to be potatoes. Certainly not the best that he's tasted but certainly not the worst. Daryl had taken one of the tables in the very back, one with only two sitting spots at it. He sits alone for breakfast as does Grimes, he realizes. The man sits at a table alone, one of the two seated ones like Daryl was sitting at but no one ever comes near the man. 

The showers come after. Daryl knows that he can't avoid it. Not unless he wants to stink and have his cellmate angry with him. So, he goes. The shower room is filling up much like the cell block for their breakfast had but he spots an open shower head. The room is daunting in a way. There's little privacy. There's different shower heads all lined up against the wall with tiled, cement blocks on either side of the shower head. It's a bit like a urinal with the blockers on either side, really. Just covering you up from the waist down but your complete back end is exposed. 

Daryl's fingers shake and twitch as he goes to take off his clothes. Thankfully most men don't pay him any mind, just wanting to go about their day and get done with their shower and so Daryl strips out of his clothes and gets to one of the shower heads that's open, only to have a man step right in front. 

"Sorry, this one's taken." The man grins, and it's all teeth and sharp eyes. 

"Weren't taken a moment ago, was walking up to it." 

Clearly the man hadn't been expecting a response and he cocked a brow along with several other men stopping to listen to the conversation take place, "Mouthy, huh? That's new, coming from a young, newbie like you." 

"You gonna use the shower or not?" Daryl resists the urge to growl at the silver haired man who's clearly already showered. 

The man shakes his head with a laugh, "Christ almighty, you are something else. Go on, there's other showers. Move along now, 'less you wanna tell me the story behind those scars on your back." 

That gets Daryl to freeze, staring at the older inmate with a mixture of muted rage and fear on his face. Here, his scars are different. Here no one knows the Dixon name, no one can easily piece together how he'd gotten them. Here, he has a chance to spin his story different. But that man keeps on looking at him, assessing him, eyes dipping down in a way that makes Daryl uncomfortable, knowing the exact intent behind those eyes and looks. 

Daryl's fingers twitch again and he turns, trying to hold onto his dignity and walks off to a different shower, hearing the crowing and laughing following him. In this moment he wants to lash out. He wants to punch, he wants to cover himself so desperately. His breathing is getting sharp and unsteady and his fingers twitch again as he stands under the warm water. Distantly he can hear the past man talking to some of the other inmates and Daryl can't calm his beating heart that's rocketing far too fast. That's when another body steps up to the shower head next to his. 

It's Grimes. The teen tenses, ready to lash out if he needs to but they only meet eyes for one moment or two before Grimes looks away, focusing on washing his wavy, brown hair. The laughter dies down a bit after a moment or two and it seems that after Grimes had stepped up next to him most of the other people had quit paying attention to him, had turned away and back to their own business. Daryl's not sure if that's supposed to comfort him or make him more wary of his cellmate. Either way Daryl relaxes a fraction and goes on his way with washing himself before finishing and walking off towards the towel to dry himself off and change back into his orange uniform. 

Grimes follows a few minutes later, not out right walking beside Daryl but a few paces behind him. Eventually Grimes comes up near to him and speaks, looking straight forward. 

"Jobs rotate most times. Have fun in the fields." 

And then, he's gone. 

 

\---------------

 

Daryl soon realizes what Grimes had meant. His job, along with some of the others, is to go out into the fields and do manual labor, picking at the corn manually. The sun is hitting down without any regard for the heat sensitive humans that walked beneath and the Georgian heat is near stifling. 

Daryl's explained the main regulations of how to do the job and then they're set loose. Some of these men are clearly much better and more practiced than him at this. More used to the elements. Daryl's sweating through his orange shirt in no time and so he strips it off, leaving him in his white tank underneath. Like some of the other men he ties the orange shirt around his head like a bandana, keeping the sweat from his forehead and hair from trickling down to the rest of his face. They eat their lunch outside as well and Daryl guzzles down his water bottle, not paying attention to most of the others that are around him. 

"I'd save that if I were you." 

The voice comes out of no where even though Daryl's surrounded by men at this point. The teen's head jerks and he stares, looking at the blonde who'd spoken to him. His hair is a bit long and shaggy and he's got a mustache that's equally blonde. The man looks harmless but Daryl treads carefully. 

"The water bottle, you're gonna need it. It's hot now but boy-o, it can get worse." The man chuckles, looking a bit sheepish and nearly shy. "Can see it's your first time is all, thought I could offer some advice." 

There's a hopeful smile on the older mans face and Daryl softens, nodding. "Yeah.. Alright, thanks." 

The blonde brightens slightly, "My name's Axel, you?" 

"Daryl." 

Daryl feels foolish for thinking it but he thinks to himself that maybe he's made a friend. Or at the very least, an ally.

 

\---------------

 

By the time they're all done Daryl's arms are a bit red in some places from the plants scratching against him. His hands are worn, his muscles ache and he doesn't think that he's ever felt this hot before. Parts of him have been bitten by bugs but Daryl doesn't care, not when he goes back to his cell to crash. They have recreational time but Daryl doesn't want it. Not right now, anyways. Now he wants to rest. 

Grimes is there when he stumbles back into the cell, still reading that book again. The man looks half amused and half sorry, staring at Daryl for a moment or two. 

"Wasn't fun," Daryl found himself muttering before climbing up to his top bunk to lay in. He deflates, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling. He doesn't expect a response, he had hardly said it loud enough to expect one and the words had been mostly to himself if he was being honest but after a few moments he hears the voice again. 

"I wouldn't know, I had laundry duty today." 

"Fucker," The boy breathes, shaking his head and running his sweaty fingers through his hair, staring at the ceiling. 

Then, silence for another minute. "No, just Rick." Rick Grimes, Daryl thinks to himself, the name flooding his brain and he has the urge to speak it but he resists. 

"Daryl Dixon," Daryl muttered after a moment or two after and there was a noise of acknowledge but nothing else and so the teen busies himself with staring at the ceiling and controlling his heart rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my other story is winding down with only two chapters to go so I'll be able to start regularly updating this one now. Hope you all like it! Please leave a kudos if you do and a comment letting me know what you think. It's all appreciated! :)


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Making friends already, huh?"

"Lori," A wretched noise sounded in the room, morphed with the word. 

"Don't-- Carl," A groan came next like someone was punching the man in the gut repeatedly. 

Daryl had gotten used to this. 

Rick and he didn't talk much. Didn't talk at all, really. The silence was a bit comforting at times and maddening at others but the man was.. Safe. During the day Rick had a blank look on his face that rarely showed any emotion at all. His eyes held the most. Just flickers of emotion, flashes of anger that was withheld and buried beneath. The man did his jobs, ate alone, stood by him in the showers and read his book in their cell during free time. He rarely did anything else, rarely left the cell if he could help it. However when night fell things became different. 

Sleep was a tricky thing. During sleep your defenses fell and it was the same with Rick. The older one didn't seem to sleep much. Daryl knew the difference between the deep breathing and occasional snores of sleeping to the shorter ones of just laying awake at night. The frustrated puffs of air when irritation and insomnia took hold. It'd been four days since Daryl had came here and Rick had only done this once before. The nightmares didn't come every night but enough to be concerning. Daryl wondered to himself who Lori and Carl were. More importantly he wondered what had happened to them. Were they waiting for Rick outside of the prison? Did he have a family waiting for him? Did they want to see him again? Had they shunned him for his prison sentence? 

Maybe they're just gone, Daryl thought to himself one night. 

He tried not to think about it all too much and instead when the nightmares rolled around he stayed in his top bunk and pretended to be asleep. Daryl never gave any inclination that he knew about Rick's sleeping troubles because he knew that it was private. It felt as though he was intruding in on something but they were here, stripped of their privacy. So, he stayed silent. Even tonight. 

The teen itched to look down at Rick, to drop an arm and shake his shoulder. To rouse him from whatever was tormenting him in his mind. Daryl winced at the next sound, a struggle for air and he nearly pushed himself onto his elbows this time with the intent to get off the bunk and wake the older man but he didn't have to because there was that gasp. The waking gasp. Daryl settled quickly, eyes closing as he heard Rick shoot up in his bunk, labored breathing heard throughout the otherwise quiet cell. And then, silence. There was a bit of shuffling around on the bed before Rick finally settled but Daryl knew. He knew the difference between different types of breathing. 

Daryl knew that Rick Grimes did not sleep that night. 

 

\---------------

 

The next day Daryl collected his breakfast as usual and walked to his usual seat. The one that only held one spot for another person but no one ever sat in it. Before he reached his spot a body jostled him, a shoulder knocking into his own. His eyes glanced up to see the silver haired man. The man seemed to be a reoccurring figure in Daryl's new life. In the showers the old man didn't bother Daryl much because Rick now stood beside him but he still felt the glances at him. The lingering looks over his body, the curious stares at his back. 

"Better watch out where you're going, sport," The silver haired man grinned, yellow teeth sharp. Daryl glared down at the floor where his milk carton had fell because of the other knocking into him. 

"Was watching." The younger spoke roughly, jaw clenched as he snatched his milk up from the floor. 

"Just a word of advice is all. Might want to take it to heart, might wanna take a look around. Open your eyes." 

And with that the man was gone, leaving Daryl puzzled. He held his breakfast with tensed hands, watching with a sharp, wary gaze as the silver haired man walked off to where his usual group sat. With a final huff Daryl sat down at his table, frowning down at his breakfast for a moment or two and then at his bruised milk carton. 

"Making friends already, huh?" 

Daryl's head snapped up quick, staring. It was Rick. The man had his breakfast in his hands, the table where he usually sat at still alone and perfectly fine to sit in.. But Rick was here. After the Dixon forced the shock away, swallowing roughly, he gave a shake of his head. "Ain't friends." 

Rick sat down without being invited, eyes flashing with something dangerous in them as he looked towards where the silver man had gone. "No, I know." Rick's jaw clenched. "His name's Joe." 

Daryl frowned again but nodded his head. Joe reminded him a lot of Merle's friends. It didn't sit well with him. The two didn't speak for the rest of their breakfast but the knot in his chest loosened, leaving Daryl more relaxed as that sat together, eating their rubbery eggs and muddy gravy. 

 

\---------------

 

"When in the fuck are we gonna stop this shit?" Daryl asked, looking out over the fields. Axel stood next to him, a cautious smile on his lips. The man looked like he craved friendship, simple companionship. He wasn't sure what the man was in for but he knew that it couldn't be bad. If anything Daryl worried for Axel, worried that someone would take advantage of that readiness for friendship that the man shows.

"We'll have these jobs 'till the end of the week and then we'll switch."

Daryl gave a scowl as he hopped onto the ground from the vehicle. This time he didn't hesitate and stripped out of the top layer he was wearing, tying it around his head like a bandana. "Hot as hell out here."

Axel got out of the transport bus next and stood beside him, "I'll let'cha have some of my water if you need it." 

Daryl frowned, turning to look and sure enough Axel was wearing a sincere expression that made the teen huff and shake his head. "You're too damn nice, man."

The other only shrugged with smile that read something along the lines of that he'd been told this a million times. "What'd you get in here for anyways, kid?"

Daryl bit viciously on his bottom lip, half of himself wanting it to bleed as the pair made their way towards the field. "Drugs. Weren't mine." 

"Ain't that what everyone says?" 

The teen turns to look sharply at Axel and snap out another answer but Axel, the damned man, is still smiling. It makes Daryl huff all over again and shake his head with an amused look flitting across his eyes. 

"Only fair to tell me what you're in for." Daryl pointed out as he batted a bug out of his face, discomfort already creeping in as the plants scrape against his arms. 

Axel looked sheepish for a moment and the younger gave him an impatient look and so he finally spills. "I robbed a place." The sweat is showing on both of their faces now, already setting in and the work is barely started. "Armed robbery," Axel clarifies. That gets Daryl to look over, cocking a brow in slight surprise. 

They don't say anything else for a little while, just picking over corn and doing their duties. Daryl nearly forgets about the subject until Axel speaks up a moment later. "It was a water pistol." 

"What?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. 

"The robbery, I was robbing a store with a water pistol. 'Course the police didn't believe me. Said nobody was stupid enough to try that and ended up saying I used one of the my brothers guns for it- Was staying at his place when they caught me." 

Daryl can't help but snort, shaking his head. "A fuckin' water pistol? Jesus, man. Guess the police never met no one like you before." 

Axel grinned, not taking offense. "Never wanted to go hurting people.. " 

The teen can't help himself, enjoying his first real laugh since he'd gotten here. "I hear ya." He hums before walking further into the fields, "C'mon, killer. We got work to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think this may be a bit of a shorter chapter- Not sure, but I wanted to split up what I have up next into a different chapter because I felt like it wouldn't mesh well with this one. Anyways, thanks for the support all! Give me a kudos and a comment letting me know what you though. Thanks! :))


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I ain't a kid."

Daryl's laying in bed, one leg hanging off of the bunk and swinging back and forth, laying very close to the edge. There's a book in his hands, one that he got from the library that is. He still doesn't dare to look at the book that Rick reads through religiously. He sighs when he hears feet going back and forth and lets his head loll to the side, watching Rick. 

The man's been doing this for nearly five minutes now, just walking back and forth in the small space. Pacing. Finally, Daryl grows frustrated and gives an audible noise of annoyance, looking over. "You keep doing that soon enough the concrete will be uneven with how you're wearing at it." 

Rick's head snaps over and looks at Daryl for a moment, eyes narrowed before giving a sigh of his own and looked down to the concrete floor. No dips in it yet. The man goes back at it. 

They still don't talk much. Rick is a silent man for the most part and Daryl's never been a conversationalist but there's times when they exchange words. 

"He's late," Rick murmurs, nearly to himself and Daryl looks over again. 

"Who's late?" 

Daryl gets no answer and so he simply huffs and looks back to the book in his hands. It's then five minutes more of this until heavy booted steps can be heard. 

"Grimes," A voice calls. It's the guard from the first day. The one with the fire red hair and loud voice. "C'mon now, you know the drill." Daryl sits up in his bunk and looks over, very confused at what's happening. Rick doesn't pay him any mind but the guard that he's come to know as Abraham is escorting Rick out of the cell. "It's visitation day, kid." 

All he can muster up is an, "I ain't a kid," before the pair is gone, leaving him thinking about Merle and whether or not the son of a bitch even knows he's in prison. 

 

\---------------

"You look antsy as hell today." 

Rick rolled his shoulders as he and Abe walked, "He's late. He's never this late. You always come to get me at the beginning of the visitation hours." 

"Yeah, and he missed last visitation day. It really that much of a surprise?" 

The words sting. Rick doesn't want to think about why his partner is late. About why he'd missed the last visitation day. He can feel their friendship shriveling up, being wrung for all it has. Or at the very least that's what he's afraid that it's doing. He's not new here, he's seen plenty of people come and go and thankfully his partner never has and so he keeps his faith. 

And there he is. Shane Walsh is sitting at one of the tables, jaw clenched and waiting for Rick. He's wearing normal clothes, just some jeans and a t-shirt that has some faded logo on it. There's combat boots on his feet and his head is freshly shaven. 

"You're late," Rick speaks as soon as he's seated. 

Shane shrugs his shoulders and tries to play the words off, rubbing at his head. "Had some stuff I needed to take care of." It's vague and it makes Rick want to tug at his own hair. 

"You shaved your head." 

That gets a slight smile out of Shane, fingers rubbing over his head again. "You like?" 

"Makes your ears look bigger than what they already did," Rick dryly speaks this, the edges of his lips twitching and Shane gave a slight bout of laughter, shaking his head. 

"You're something, man."

And then, silence. Around them other people are here, too. Sitting with family, friends. There's even a child or two here and it makes Rick's heart ache. Rick frowns and says nothing for awhile, just staring at the table and then up at the old piece of his life that's sitting before him. 

"I.. I've been talking around. They said you're doing real good here. You haven't had any incidents since," Shane swallowed, "The beginning." Rick says nothing. "Still got some years to go but it's less now and they're talking 'bout letting you out earlier for good behavior. That's something, ain't it?" Rick nods. As much as he wants life again, real life, a part of him is wary. Nothing is left for him in that old life. Shane, he supposes, is all that he has. He certainly won't be allowed back on the force, that's for sure. 

"Not sure what I'll do when I get out." That earns him a sigh. 

"I was thinking that you could talk to someone, work out things- "

Rick's voice becomes hard, "I don't need to talk to anyone. I'm fine." His brother is staring at him with his big, brown eyes, so lost and sad and Rick can feel the grief inside of him. 

"There's no shame in getting help. You were the one that told me that, remember?"

Rick feels shame pile into his stomach and the conversation lapses into silence again.

Shane stays for the time allotted and ends the conversation. "We'll be back out together soon enough. You and me, brother. I'm gonna take you out to a ball game once this is through." He squeezes Rick's shoulder but not for too long since the higher ups are strict about that sort of thing, having contact, and then he's gone. 

 

\---------------

 

"Hey, piggy boy. That partner of yours visit you again today?" 

It's their last meal of the day and Daryl frowns as comments flood the area. It's really the only time he's seen any other prisoners talk towards Rick at all. 

Rick doesn't pay any mind to the comment but Daryl doesn't understand why they'd be calling Rick a pig. He feels so confused for the second time that day, sitting at their usual table and watched the man. Rick has this look in his eyes. It's dangerous and glinting and hungry. He's seen that look before on various people but he's not swayed away from Rick. He's come to the conclusion that Rick won't hurt him. He would have done it already if he'd been planning on it. 

Rick has a white knuckle grip on his tray as he comes to sit by Daryl per usual and Daryl cautiously watches him before glancing off to where Joe and the others are crowing. 

"Hm? You trying to crawl back and get that job of yours back?" That brings laughter from their group and Daryl levels them with a mean glare. "Uh-oh, boys. Lookie there, Grimes has done made a guard dog outt'a the kid he's bunking with. Made him some kind'a bitch." 

"Ignore it," Rick speaks, not looking at Daryl but instead down at the chicken sandwich on his plate almost like he can feel the fire running through the teen's body, the prickly feeling that's consumed him. Daryl inhales deeply but nods and listens to the older man. 

They don't speak usually but there are comments this time, comments being thrown at them from the other table and so Daryl talks. More like he mutters about the chicken that doesn't taste like chicken but it's anything to keep his and Rick's attention off of the men. His temper and anger are boiling inside of him but he knows that he can't do anything about it. Knows that if he did his year sentence would be extended to much, much longer. 

 

\---------------

 

Eventually they retreat back to their cell- It's becoming familiar and that makes him frustrated. Daryl gets into the cell and looks to where Rick has sat down on his bunk heavily, jaw clenched. 

"Why are you always here? You have rec hours, you know. Do something with them," The older man is speaking this out of gritted teeth and not making eye contact with Daryl. 

Of course Daryl doesn't listen. If he's held onto anything during this experience it was his stubbornness. 

"You wanna tell me why they were calling you a pig?" 

Silence. 

"Rick," He starts again.

"Leave it be."

"No, I have to live with ya so I should damn well know who I'm living with." His jaw is jutted out, staring at the man who's gotten up, dirty blonde hair slightly in his eyes but the defiance and stubbornness still burns through. His chest puffs up even, just like Merle had taught him even though he knows that Rick won't hurt him. Or at least that's what he was holding onto. 

After another loaded moment of silence Rick gives a great sigh and his head dips slightly, looking towards the ground as he takes a step back. "I was a cop. Before all this, I was a cop." 

Daryl blinks and takes a step back of his own, just staring. It makes sense. His mind had hinted towards it when he'd heard the name 'pig' being thrown around but now he knows for sure. It suddenly all makes sense, the way that the other prisoners nearly shun him. The way they don't acknowledge him unless it's to prod at him- And they seldom do that. Daryl wonders what made them so cautious, something had to have happened to make them so wary at poking at Rick. He feels horrid for the other man, realizing that Rick's in a prison full of men that he probably put in there through his work. 

Rick won't look at him, he's staring away with nearly a vulnerable expression on his face and it tugs at something in the teen's heart. Eventually Daryl walks towards his own bunk and crawls up it, laying on his stomach and making eye contact with Rick when he turns to look. 

"You ain't like any pig I've ever met before." Daryl gives a nod and so does Rick. The man looks more relieved than he has all day. 

From that point on, things shifted between Daryl Dixon and Rick Grimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there's any typos. Thank you to all that are leaving kudos and comments, it truly means a lot to me! Leave a comment letting me know what you think, thanks! :)


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now, if it ain't little Officer Friendly's bitch."

It was an odd thing to say but Daryl had never had as much structure in his life as he did when he was in prison.

He had three meals each day. He had a shower each day. He had a place to sleep each night. Those things were comforting, almost. In all honesty he was probably gaining weight. He was skinny to start with, all bony angles that had made Merle's friends laugh and push him around. It had been because of the inconsistent meals, an effect of his father spending his paycheck on booze rather than food for the house. And eating squirrels everyday? That didn't always cut it. 

Here he had the most stability that he'd ever experienced in his life but yet the least freedom. 

Another difference is the relationships here. He'd never had someone that made so much effort into being friends with him as Axel does. The man is always near if they work the same shift. Always shooting a friendly look to him, completely innocent and soft. The older one is not something that he'd expected here and he wonders how he hasn't gotten eaten alive yet, how he isn't.. Different. Though he's seen him hang around some much bigger inmates and so Daryl figures that Axel must have some very nice but very not to be messed with friends. 

Daryl itched to be back out in the forest, back with the familiar weight of his crossbow slung over his back. Except he wouldn't have that. Not for the rest of the year. During the little free time that he had he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Daryl knew that he was allowed out in the yard during some days but he wasn't sure if that would be the smartest idea, especially when Joe and his group had to come and talk to him and prod at him whenever they saw him. Lifting weights had never really been his thing either, and so he was stuck with staying inside of his cell. 

However he wouldn't call it stuck since it wasn't all bad. The relationship between Rick and him had shifted after their conversation. Daryl had been taught to hate cops. To never tell them anything but Rick was.. Different. Rick had proven himself in a way. The man stuck up for him in a silent way. Stood by him in the shower hall, sat by him at lunch. That wasn't something that one of the 'pigs' would do. 

"I'll trade you my eggs for the gravy and potatoes." 

Rick narrowed his eyes, looking over at Daryl's tray as if it was some sort of trap but eventually he nodded. Rick didn't talk much. Still didn't. They shoveled Daryl's eggs onto Rick's plate and Rick's gravy and potatoes onto Daryl's tray and they got back to eating. They ate in comfortable silence. 

 

\---------------

 

"Now, if it ain't little Officer Friendly's bitch." 

It's Joe. Who else would it be? 

Daryl focuses on getting to his shower area with his jaw clenched, trying to remember that this won't be his life. That this won't be forever. He gets under the warm water and scrubs at himself quickly. 

"What, you ain't gonna answer? Christ, Grimes must'a got you locked up tight." Then, a smile crept onto Joe's face. "Or maybe, I'm guessing that Grimes did something real smart. I'm thinking he made you his actual bitch. That what happen?" 

Daryl doesn't know why he does what he does next. He doesn't, he really doesn't. But, a feint blush fans across his cheeks. Probably because a small voice inside is whispering at him, pestering him, always catching him glancing at Rick in ways that he probably shouldn't be. Ways that were dangerous. Then, he feels anger. Anger and defensive mechanisms kicking in, rage pummeling at his chest. 

"Ain't nobody's bitch," Is all that Daryl bites out with venom, scrubbing at himself until his skin turns pink with it. 

Laughter is heard and the teen is wondering where the hell Rick is. Rick is always there. Always stands beside him. He looks around for the man but he's no where to be seen. Daryl is left with the laughter and the taunts before he escapes the shower room. 

 

\---------------

 

"You weren't there." 

It's one of their rec hours, after dinner now. Late in the day. It was a hard day of working, hard physical labor outside and Daryl's left coated in sweat again but he hardly notices now. He's laying out on his bunk, splayed out with Rick laying on the bottom one. 

"I wasn't where?" 

"In the shower rooms. You weren't there." 

Silence follows, one beat and then another before Rick answers. "Did something happen?" 

Daryl huffs, "Nah, nothing happened." He can't help the bitterness in his tone. He doesn't know why he's angry, he just knows that he doesn't like that their routine has been broken. 

Rick nearly sounds apologetic when he speaks next, "I'll be there tomorrow. At the same time that you'll be there." 

It calms Daryl a little and he's left breathing heavily in his bed and listening to the way Rick breathes much easier. It goes that way for awhile but eventually Rick breaks the silence. 

"Sharing a cell with me isn't a good idea." 

"Not like I have much choice over that," Daryl snorts. 

Rick sighs, "Fine, then. Being nice and being friendly with me isn't a good idea." 

"Why not?" 

"You know why not. I'm a -- " Rick's voice breaks off in a horrible way. "I was a cop. That's enough said." 

"Ain't gonna start making friends with silver if that's what you're getting at," Daryl says it easily enough, referencing the mans silver hair. 

"No.. No. I wouldn't want that, but I don't want this either." 

The younger one frowned, resisting the urge to pop his head over and look down at Rick. "You're talking stupid." 

"I'm really not, it's- " 

Daryl cut him off, "Shut up, man. Ain't in the mood for it. Fuckin tired is what I am. I'm here, staying here. Better get used to it." 

Daryl can hear Rick drumming his fingertips against something, wonders what. 

"Alright." 

Relief floods Daryl's chest, "Alright," He echoes. That's that.

 

\---------------

 

Daryl knows that he's different. Different in a bad way. Knows that he's always been different from the time when he first discovered his brothers skin magazines and he always paid more attention to the guys in the pictures instead of the girls. He knew he was broken, knew it wasn't right to think that way. Daryl knew a lot of things. He knew better than to look Rick that way. However his eyes still lingered on the chocolate brown curls, the greying facial hair that was never allowed to grow out, his lean frame with bowed out legs. 

Daryl paid attention to all of it and it made him sick. It made him wish that he could bleach his mind and cut that part of him out like it was an organ instead just a fault in his personality, in his mind. 

Rick settled into bed that night and bid him goodnight and Daryl's heart thundered. Distantly he wishes that he could rip it off out his chest, or press hard enough against his chest to make it stop beating.

I'm one big problem, the Dixon thought to himself. 

 

\---------------

 

That night, Daryl is the one with the bad dreams. He's the one that tosses and turns through the night.

He's in the woods, running. Why is he running?

He can hear cackles that drive him wild with fear and uneasiness, muscles tensing up. Bars sprout around him, cutting off his path and suddenly he's running the opposite direction and falling off a cliff, down into a body of water.

Where did the water come from? He should have seen it, he should have known. 

There was an arm pulling him up, keeping him from drowning and Daryl is thankful. He attaches himself to the muscular arm and hangs on, kicking his legs in the water. When he resurfaces the cackling is still there, loud and wild. 

And there it is. A grinning face looking down at him, still hooting away with laughter. 

"What? You didn't miss me, baby brother?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, angst. Mega angst. Also, foreshadowing. Hope you all liked it! Pretty please leave a kudos if you liked it and drop a comment telling me what you think! Thanks all, it means so much! :)


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Not tonight, Daryl."

The dream of Merle sticks with Daryl through the rest of the night even after he wakes in a near violent way all the way to the next morning. Maybe his brother shouldn't make him feel this way but he couldn't help it. 

The teen wonders where his big brother is. Wonders if he's off chasing a high or slumming it with his lady of the month. Part of him wants to think that Merle would have recognized his absence by now but there's no way of being sure. Merle was a free soul that refused to be tied down anywhere, the type that skipped out to the next state after using up everything that you had and then called back a month later saying something like 'Ol' Merle's sorry, gimme one more shot.' Another part of him thinks that Merle knows. There's no way that he couldn't but that's an equally unsettling thought, thinking that his brother knows where he is but hasn't tried to reach out in any way. 

In the morning Daryl's caught in his own head, hardly glancing towards Rick when they both get up but he can tell that the man is staring at him. Looking at him in worry perhaps. Daryl tries not to read too much into it. 

They eat their breakfast in their usual silence, trading each other the food that they don't like in favor for what they do. They ignore the crows from the others. The silver haired man still watches him. It's more unsettling than the dream. 

Sometimes Daryl will let himself look over and positively glare at Joe though Rick always reigns him in, letting one foot come across to nudge at Daryl's. 

"Daryl," Rick says in his quiet but firm drawl, staring at the younger with such intensity that it makes Daryl's heart thunder all over again but in the end he complies with a nod and a frustrated huff, looking back to his food. 

 

\---------------

 

Rick had promised him the other day that he'd go with him to the shower rooms and he keeps it. They don't talk about the promise, just walk but Rick eventually speaks up as they walk through the hall. 

"You can't let them bait you like that." 

"Ain't," Daryl huffed. 

"You are." 

The teen frowns, shaking his head. "Don't get it. Don't get you either, how you let 'em say whatever the fuck they want." 

"It's not that simple. You think I don't get frustrated by what they say?" Daryl doesn't answer, doesn't want to understand why he feels so angry but it's because it's not fair. None of it is. Rick's decent, more than decent and these men take their fun out of pointing that out. He feels a hand on his shoulder and he nearly clocks Rick out of instinct but he relaxes a moment later once he calms his body, allowing himself to melt against the hand, cheeks heating up as his eyes look down. 

"No, Daryl. Look at me." Daryl's helpless but to listen, looking into Rick's clear blue eyes in the empty hall way that won't be empty for much longer. 

"What?" The younger asks softly, defeated. 

"I've been in here for a long time, or at least it feels like it. Long enough to learn things. Right now maybe you're just glaring but next it's gonna be sticking your neck out to cause trouble, it's gonna be speaking up. You can't react to it, Daryl. You can't. Promise me that you won't." 

When the man doesn't get an answer he steps closer. It doesn't feel like intimidation, just a presences that's there to urge him, to try and coax him towards the correct answer. Daryl tries to ignore how this is the closest that they've ever been to one another, he tries not to suffocate and fall under the desperate in Rick's tone. 

"Promise me." 

They can hear footsteps in the distance. 

"Yeah okay, I won't." 

Then Rick has a slight twitch of the lips, hand squeezing gently at his shoulder before letting go. "You've gotta work on that temper of yours." 

The pull apart to a more respective distance when other inmates come and they walk like normal to the shower rooms, Daryl scoffing as they do so. "Like hell I do. Ain't like you can talk either." It feels more like banter now but it holds a truth. He's seen the way that Rick's eyes can flash dangerously. The way the man reminds him of a predator some days. 

"Fair enough."

 

\---------------

 

Daryl finds himself stuck in that damned field job more times than not and he wonders if the system is somehow rigged. He wonders if he's forever destined to be bug bitten and worn. However part of him likes getting this job. It's a chance to be outside out of rec hours. He doesn't use his rec hours for much, still. He doesn't know the prison all too well yet and so he keeps to his shared cell. 

The teen likes being outside, likes feeling the dirt under his boots. However the triple degree weather? Yeah, he could go without that. 

The Dixon gets back into the prison that night with a sweaty body and a pink flush on his cheeks. He pauses when he gets inside, frowning. He hasn't been reading lately since he finished the last book. Daryl didn't like roaming but he supposed that he could go back the library that was supplied. Library was a loose term, of course. It was a compilation of books that were donated to the prison. Not the best selection but Daryl won't complain. So, he goes. 

There's a few men in the room when he gets there. Most of them are quiet, searching through the shelves of books. He likes the crowd in this room, Daryl thinks to himself. The people that came to this section of the prison didn't usually come looking for trouble. He sorts through the books, fingers itching to touch the spines of the worn looking books but he refrains. In the end he picks up another book. One about a gunslinger in the wild west. A sheriff. It reminds him of Rick. The teen stares down at the worn cover for a moment, smoothing his fingers over the frayed edges. He wonders where the book came from, how many miles the book had traveled to get here-- 

"Daryl!" Daryl whips around quick, defensive and ready to throw a fist if he needed. His arms are raised as he turns, face pulled into a mean scowl but it all drops at the sight of who's in front of him. 

It's Axel. The man had been smiling, face bright but then it turned to shock and wariness, backing up a step with his hands raised. 

"Whoa there," The blonde tries. "Didn't mean nothing by coming up to ya, I'm sorry if I gave ya a fright." 

Daryl huffs roughly to himself and shakes his head, "Don't worry about it." He grinds out, watching as Axel bends to pick up the book on the floor and the older man hands it to him with a soft expression that's forever hoping for friendship. It softens Daryl. "Just- Weird day. Wasn't gonna hit ya once I saw it was you." 

That gets Axel to smile, nodding his head. "It's alright, was thinking of saying hi to ya this morning, too. You were with Rick at one of the tables." 

That piques Daryl's interested. The way Axel said Rick's first name. He looks over, eyes narrowing in interest. 

"You know him?" 

Axel's looking at other books now, interest a bit distant. "Who, Rick?" He asks after moment or two and Daryl nods, prompting him on. "Guess we all know Rick," Axel speaks after a moment or two, shrugging his shoulders. "Know of him, at the very least." 

Then, Axel gets this look on his face. Nervous almost. Daryl frowns and tries to meet the mans gaze. "What do ya mean?" 

Axel shifts on his feet, shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno, just," He never gets the answer because some larger looking man is calling Axels name and so Axel shoots him an apologetic smile along with a goodbye before scattering. 

The Dixon stands there for a long moment or two, feeing something unravel uncomfortably in his gut. Something was being kept from him. Not directly, but something had happened. Daryl was sure of that. 

 

\---------------

 

Rick is reading when he gets to the cell. The mans eyes flick upwards, staring before looking back down at the book. "You got a new one."

Daryl nods, looking down at his own book. "Yeah, I did. It's 'bout some lawless sheriff, a take no prisoner type that's out in the wild west."

The older man cocks a brow at the choice but says nothing and instead looks back down to his own book. Daryl goes and climbs onto his top bunk, relaxing against the thin mattress but leaving the book on his chest. He feels the urge to speak up, to ask a question. Not about the strange behavior from Axel. No, that'll be for another night but not this one. 

There's silence for a minute or two before Daryl speaks up again, "You've been reading the same book since I got here. One that ain't that thick, either."

It's a question, something that he wonders if Rick will answer or not. It seems personal in a way and he nearly regrets it once the question comes out, especially when silence only follows his words. 

There's a sigh, one that sounds nearly pained. "It's important to me." 

"What is it?"

He can hear Rick shuffling around a bit, the sounds of indecisiveness. "Not tonight, Daryl."

Daryl doesn't answer back at all then, just accepts the answer as best as he can and opens his own book. Ten minutes later Rick's voice comes again, soothing him even in a room made of harsh floors and walls meant to keep him in. 

"Good night, Daryl." 

"Night, Rick."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support, every comment and kudos means so much to me! Please leave a comment letting me know what you thought of this chapter, thank you all again! :))
> 
> Also sorry for typos XD


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you have spurs on your boots?" The teen blurts out, feeling mildly horrified with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence and non con touching

Daryl gets lost in reading. 

His imagination runs wild with the story and he savors up the words like they're some treat that he won't get again. He passes long days like that, immersing himself in the book. The main character is a lawless man that also happens to be sheriff in the wild west. Somewhere along the lines his head started imagining the main character as Rick. His mind plays out the scenes but in his mind Rick is the one who's riding the horse. Rick is the one with spurs on his big boots and a large hat set atop his head. It's Rick who's whipping out his gun and stealing girls hearts as he rides through towns. A man on a mission. 

Imagining Rick makes him nervous. If only the man knew.. Of course nothing bad is happening in the book. Nothing dirty, he means. Daryl won't imagine Rick that way, he wont. But imagining him at all still seems embarrassing. His mind supplies faces for all of the characters and one of the drunkards in it looks unsettlingly like Merle. When he starts thinking about Merle too much or even Rick, he shuts his book and sighs, pressing his fingers against his scalp and tugs lightly at his hair. 

 

\---------------

 

Daryl's favorite job is working at the makeshift library that they have. It's simple and relaxing. He shelves books, keeps track of what books are being checked out and returned and works on fixing the labels on some of the books. In his spare time he reads. It smells a bit like damp cardboard but the teen doesn't mind. No, he loves this job. Savors it for the days that he has it and wishes that the jobs didn't rotate only so he can have this one for the rest of his time here. 

Axel shows up a few times, smiling as always. Daryl doesn't ask him about what he'd almost said the day before. Part of him doesn't want to hear the gossip, he wants to find out about Rick's past from Rick. He knows it's unlikely that it'll ever actually happen but he holds out hope. 

It surprises him greatly when on one of the nights Rick strolls in. Most of the prisoners here don't pay any attention to him, too caught up in their heads and searching for the perfect escape in one of the books. 

Rick looks around, eyes scanning the area before landing on Daryl. They pause for a moment, just looking at one another before the older man eventually comes closer. 

"You here for a book?" Daryl asks. 

Rick blinks, coming back to himself and staring in confusion for a moment as if the idea of it is absurd. Coming to get a book. At the library. Rick seems to struggle with his words for a moment, bringing a hand up to stroke at his barely there stubble since he shaved recently. 

"Just to look," The man settles on, nodding his head. His eyes don't stray from Daryl. "Didn't know where you.. " Rick shakes his head and Daryl swears that he sees something close to a shade of pink blooming on the mans cheeks. 

Then Daryl gets it. He isn't working the usual hours. The library is mostly busy during rec hours and so that's where they've placed him. Daryl wasn't at the cell normal time and it'd worried Rick. Daryl's head cocked to the side, a hint of a smile playing at his lips for only a moment. He opens his mouth but Rick cuts him off, nodding to the book in Daryl's hand.

"That any good?" 

Now it's Daryl's turn to blush, ducking his head and jutting his bottom jaw out slightly. "Good as any other." He blandly replies, eyes narrowed down at the book. The front cover has a picture of a gun on it and a worn map in the background that's fraying at the edges. 

Then Daryl can't contain himself, can't contain the words and thoughts bubbling inside of him. "Did you have spurs on your boots?" The teen blurts out, feeling mildly horrified with himself. 

Rick looked at him with a perplexed expression. 

"You know.. Did you ever wear spurs on your boot? Or the- A big hat? Kind'a like a cowboy?" 

Rick was still staring at him in that perplexed way but eventually a hint of a smile played at his lips. "Not the spurs," He answered before turning to walk away. Daryl stared after him, lips lightly parted with the more solidified image of Rick in a cowboy hat on in his head. 

Rick doesn't stay in the library for too long. Just walks around, trails his fingertips against the spines of books before leaving with a nod of the head. Of course he didn't get anything, Daryl thinks to himself. He has that book of his own in his cell. 

Eventually Axel strolls up the desk, looking off in the direction of where Rick went. He hadn't even noticed the man coming into the area. "What?" Daryl grinds out with a frown. 

"Just.. Just never saw him do something like that before." 

Daryl frowns further in confusion, "Do what?" 

"Talking to someone."

 

\---------------

 

That day is when things start the crumble. It's the start of an avalanche. The warning. 

He's on his way back from the library, ready to lay down in his cot and call it a day. The corridors are dark now, hardly any light in the cement hallways. Daryl keeps walking. He can hear footsteps, shuffling around and Daryl damns himself for having stayed a bit over his time. 

The shuffling gets louder and the teen can hear a chuckle. One that he recognizes. It seizes at his heart and the boy wants to run. A hand snatches at his shirt and pushes the younger one against the hard wall. 

"You best lemme go!" Daryl snarls, kicking his feet out. 

"Christ, he's lively. Ain't he?" 

Then another voice, "Nothing that we can't work out."

Hands have him pushed against the wall and Daryl feels like he can't breathe, not with the big, meaty hand clamped over his mouth. Fingers trail from his shoulders down towards his belly button and Daryl kicks again, legs shooting out to try and get the hands away.

He can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't breathe. 

"Aw, what's that look of panic for? Hm? We tried to be nice about this. I'm sure you remember. We've been seeking you out since the day you got here, boy." Daryl glares, eyes wide and terrified but wild in their grip as he fights back. 

"Told ya now, you just need to settle." Fingers work their way under his shirt and Daryl makes muffled yells behind the hand, thrashing violently in the grip. 

"Where's that little piggy now, huh? Gonna have him save you? Naw, that little pig done ran on home back to his cell. He ain't no where 'round here. No one is." 

Daryl bites down hard on the hand covering his mouth. He bites down until he tastes blood and the man yelps, letting go. He's shoved once more, a fist hitting his face and all of a sudden a face is very close to his. "You better think bout this real hard now. Better think 'bout where you belong," A hand smacks him harshly upside the head and then the group is gone, leaving him crumpled in the desolate hall. 

 

\---------------

 

When Daryl gets back to his cell he's shaking. His fingers are trembling, blood is smeared over his lips and he's sure there's a bruise forming over his cheek. 

Rick looks up, a half smile on his face with his mouth open to say something but it stops abruptly when it sees Daryl. Rick is a scary man when he's angry. His face shuts off and suddenly he looks calm. Like he knows what he needs to do. His eyes convey his anger, the fury that's stirring inside of him. Rick makes way towards the cell and the teen reaches out, hands grabbing onto Rick's arm. 

"No! Rick, you ain't doing that. Whatever you're thinking it ain't happening." 

Rick continues to try to leave and Daryl works his way in front of the man, hands pushing at his chest to make the lean one fall back. "It ain't what you think."

"Really? Cause I'm thinking some son of a bitch attacked you," His voice is laced with venom and his body is pulled tight, ready to spring and attack. 

"Don't matter, you aren't gonna do a damn thing but sit here with me. You aren't gonna go an' get yourself into trouble 'cause of me." 

Rick pulls back and gives a laugh that's anything but funny. "Oh, Daryl," His head shakes. "I'm gonna be in here for years to come, it doesn't matter anymore." 

Daryl stares. 

"Men like that? They don't get to live." 

Daryl wonders if Rick's killed a man before, if maybe that's why he's here. He seems so at peace with the idea of ending a mans life. 

Rick makes another move forward and Daryl stands in front of the entrance defiantly. "Don't," He ground out. "You're staying 'cause I said you're staying. You aren't leaving me, you aren't fucking dumping me here alone." He knows what'll happen if Rick goes out there. Rick will most likely retaliate and he wont care who sees. He'll be taken away. Daryl will be left alone and Rick will be punished for something that isn't his fault. Something that he didn't start. 

It goes on for a minute or two like that, just staring at each other before Rick breaks with a sigh, looking away sharply. They don't speak. The both know who the attacker was, what group it was but they don't talk about the silver man named Joe. Rick doesn't speak at all but he beckons Daryl closer eventually. The man wipes away the blood and touches gently at the bruise, eyes a mixture of sadness and rage. Daryl can't help the shakes and twitches of his fingers, remembering the too friendly hands that had touched him. 

After awhile they sit on Rick's bunk and stare at one another before Rick brings him closer. An arm curls around his shoulders and a hand is buried in his hair. Daryl lets his own hands touch at Rick's shirt, clutching there as he pressed his face against the shoulder. 

He can finally breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there ya be! Poor Daryl. Pretty please leave a comment and let me know what you think, every review and kudos is greatly appreciated. Thanks! :)


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You ever regret it?" Daryl asked.

That night neither of them sleep much. 

They stay together for awhile, both sitting on one of the bunks with Daryl's face burrowed in Rick's shoulder and Rick's arms curled around him. It's safe. It's comforting. The teen doesn't know how long they stay like that, together, but eventually they split and Daryl goes to his own bunk and Rick stays in his own. 

Daryl doesn't sleep. He can't. Every time that he tries he can feel phantom fingers working their way under his shirt in a sickening caress. He can hear Joe's voice in his ear. He can feel the panic all over again. So he doesn't sleep. He shifts around on his bunk endlessly until a voice comes out. 

"Daryl." 

He froze. "I wake you?" 

"No, just been laying here. I was hoping you'd fall asleep." 

Daryl sighed and relaxed against his mattress, staring up at the blank ceiling. "Ain't gonna sleep." 

It was quiet between them before Rick spoke up again a moment or two later. 

"This isn't going to stop, Daryl." 

"What isn't?" He held his breath. 

"You know what. Joe and his people, they aren't going to stop. Not while you're associated with me." 

Daryl scowled, "Fuck that. We already had that conversation, already went through this." 

He could hear Rick sighing from below. "No matter how many times we have that conversation it's still going to make me wish that you'd have been put with someone else." The older man referred to cell mates.

Daryl felt his heart clench and he whispered, "I don't." 

The teen kept staring at the ceiling, wondering how many people before had done just that. Wondering if Rick had had a different cellmate before him. Then Daryl wondered how different this situation might be if Merle had been the one here instead of him. It made him nearly cringe. In a way Daryl was glad that he was the one in this spot instead of Merle. Merle had gone to prison a time or two before but the man that walked out was never really Merle. Things were different after prison. Daryl also didn't want to think about Merle and Rick sharing a cell together, of Merle finding out about Rick being a cop. The only outcome of that situation could be one that involved blood. 

"You ever regret it?" Daryl asked. 

Rick made a humming noise of question. 

"What you did to get in here. Ain't asking 'bout that, just thinking.. You regret it?" 

Rick was silent for a long while and Daryl thought that the older man might just not answer the question at all but eventually it came. "No, I don't regret it. I don't think I'd be able to stop myself if I could have a go at it all again." Rick spoke quietly but in a firm voice before asking, "Do you?" 

Daryl thought about Merle once more. Merle with blood on his knuckles and a wicked smirk to his face, of prison tattoos and a new man strutting out from the building. Then he thinks of Rick and Merle in the cell, of blood smeared over both of their skin.

"No, I don't regret nothing." 

The silence stretches on for awhile after that until they bid each other goodnight. Daryl wishes that he was back on the bunk with Rick with the mans arms holding him tight but he knows that he can't ever let those wishes be known. Those were dangerous thoughts and this was dangerous business.

 

\---------------

 

Daryl still has the job at the library. He's sure that he'll be switched out in a day or two but he savors the work while he can. However the experience is tainted now. It's different. He can't help the way he jolts at too loud footsteps and the way his fingers twitch when people come too close as if he's itching to reach out for something. Something that isn't there nor will it be there. 

Rick's always around now. At least when he stops his shifts. Rick is always there, always walking close with their shoulders brushing in a casual sort of way. He doesn't walk back to their cell alone because of Rick and he wonders why Joe doesn't make another move. The man hasn't done anything to them outwardly. No, he just sits back and smirks as if he finds the whole situation very pleasing. Daryl knows what he's doing. He's playing with them, he's keeping them on edge and it's working. 

Daryl can tell that Rick is waiting for the next shoe to drop. He's waiting and he's tense and he's oh so vigilant with his sharp blue eyes that never seem to meet Daryl's for too long because they're always scanning the area around them. It's unsettling. 

"Daryl!" It's hollered and the boy turns slightly, already knowing the voice. 

Axel is jogging up to him in the more populated cement halls now that he's just going to the start of the shift. It's still early in the evening. 

"Yeah?" 

Axel looks uneasy, walking with his shoulders in a slant. "I - Uh," The blonde scratches at the back of his neck. "Just thought I'd said hi is all." 

That makes Daryl stop slightly, narrowing his eyes. "Bull shit. What's going on?" 

The other man sighs, looking a mixture of anxious and uncomfortable. "Heard about some things is all." 

The words are murmured so carefully that it's nearly impossible to get mad at them. Daryl just huffs and turns, walking again as Axel follows. 

"I'm guessing that something has to do with Joe." He grunted out, eyes narrowed into slits with a body that's far too tense as he makes his way towards the library. 

"Look, Daryl, I ain't meaning to get ya mad. Ain't snooping either.. It's just, you're just a boy! And this all ain't right, and I can't-- " Axel cuts himself off, sucking in an air of breath. "This isn't gonna stop. I know you think it might but these are bad men. Bad men who've gotten away with things before and they'll do it again now that they've got their sights set on you." 

The teens' fingers twitch again, looking for that something to hold to. That strength that he needs. "The fuck you mean, have their sights on me?" 

Axel drops his head and shakes it. "I only mean.. Well, you know how he says stuff. Or maybe you don't but it don't matter either way because you've been living with it. Living with him."

Daryl doesn't know how to answer, he just clenches his jaw and stares down at the floor. He stays like that for a moment, silent and frozen before lifting his head. "What was the point of telling me all this, huh?"

The man dampens visibly and his shoulders cave inwards, making him seem smaller than what he actually is. "Just worried is all.. " The words trail off and the younger one doesn't know what to do with the words and so he shrugs it off. 

"Don't be."

"You don't know Joe like I do. Don't know Rick like this prison does, either." 

Daryl doesn't ask for an explanation this time. He just walks away.

 

\---------------

 

The days pass like that. Worried eyes, twitchy fingers, minds going into overdrive.

Rick still stays in his bunk and continues obsessively reading his same book like he always does but even the man seems more strained than usual. It's like he's a wild animal that's trying to control himself, trying to tether himself to something that'll remind himself of something. Daryl hopes that it's something happy. Something of a better time than this. Than of cement walls and bars. 

Neither of them sleep much but whenever Rick wakes up from his nightmares- Things that Daryl hasn't worked up the courage to asking about, the teen gets off of his own bunk and gently shakes at the other mans shoulder until he's awake. 

It works. They work together. 

Rick usually sits up fast, gripping Daryl's arms with a positively bruising grip that has absolutely no malice behind it. Besides, the older one always apologizes. Always says for Daryl to stop waking him. He'd gotten into the habit of grabbing at Daryl's arms in the morning to check them, running his fingers ever so gently along the marks with regret pooling in his eyes. It had happened again last night and while Rick hadn't added anymore bruises past one's are still there on Daryl's arms. Splatters of yellow and green. 

They're sitting on Rick's bunk and the man is bent slightly in his concentration, finger tips smoothing over his forearm in a tender way. 

"I wish you'd stop this," He murmured, not looking at Daryl. 

"A few bruises never hurt me much. Can handle 'em better when they're coming from a guy like you." Before Daryl can register his slip up about his past there's a bark at the cell. 

"Grimes! Dixon!" They both turn fast, eyes wide and defensive only to find that it's Abraham. It calms Rick though it doesn't calm Daryl. 

"Visitor time, c'mon." Rick stands but Daryl stays in his spot before the guard shakes his head. "C'mon now, Christ. I said Grimes and Dixon, didn't I? Let's move it, still haven't had shit for breakfast and I have five more of these till I can get something in my stomach." 

It takes a moment or two for Daryl to stand once he realizes what's happening. He'd only put one person in his approved guest list. 

His brother Merle Dixon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not sure how I feel about this one but I hope you guys like it! Thanks for everything, pretty please comment and let me know what you think and leave a kudos if ya like!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes promises just couldn't be kept.

_The child runs through the forest on chubby little legs that don't take him very far anytime fast._

_Daryl's at peace here with all the birds cawing, with the grass and plants tickling at his bare feet and half covered legs._

_"Boy where the hell are you at?" Daryl tries to stifle his giggles at the sound of his older brothers gruff voice and takes a sharp right turn, trying to evade his brother._

_Merle's always talking about how he's the faster one, the stronger one, the smarter one and Daryl figures that his brother is right about two of those things. He's determined to grab hold of the title of the smartest with his small, dirt covered hands. He tries to fool his brother by taking a different path but he doesn't notice the rock in his path until it's too late. He tumbles over it and takes a marvelous fall over to land in the shallow creek._

_Daryl's jean shorts that are cut off at the knees are soaked with creek water as is his shirt and pain shoots through his hands. He pulls his palms up to see them bloodied and scratched from having landed on some rocks. Big, fat tears well in the child's eyes and he glances up with a whimper when a shadow is cast over him._

_His big brother is there, standing tall with his hands on his hips. "Christ, you're a complete dumbass."_

_That gets one of the tears sliding down Daryl's cheek and he looks helplessly up at his big brother._

_"Told you not to run away from me like that. And quit that blubbering or else I'll give ya something real to cry about." That only proceeds to make the child hunch his shoulders inwards, giving a small whine as another few tears slip down his cheeks._

_Merle sighs, looking down with an annoyed expression that eventually softens and melts away. "God damn it," He hears the curse. Soon enough he's scooped up into Merle's arms and he immediately feels better, tucking his head against the older one's shoulder. "No reason to cry 'bout this, it's just a scratch. I'm here, ain't I? Yeah, that's right. 'Ol Merle is always gonna be around, always gonna get you outt'a your messes. Promise ya that."_

_After a moment longer Merle sets the younger down and Daryl feels stronger already, small chest puffing out even while his fingers come up to tangle with Merle's._

_"C'mon now, little devil."_

_Daryl follows._

  
\---------------

  
The memory clouds Daryl's mind, gives him a false sense of security. Merle promised to be there, promised to always help him, however that promise had fallen short over the years. Besides, how on earth was Merle supposed to get him out on this one? The only solution would be to confess, to give himself over and give proof and well.. Daryl knows that won't happen.

He's walked down the visitation area. An area full of tables. Small ones for only a few people to sit at. Abe pushes him forward slightly when he pauses and Rick sends a concerned look towards him. Daryl shakes his head and gives one last nod to Rick before the man is escorted towards a table that has a man sitting at it.

A shaved head, brown eyes, muscular with a large frame but the large mans expression turned soft when he looked at Rick. They were close, that much was easy to see. But back on further.. There was a man.

Merle Dixon sat with his buzzed hair and a mean look on his face. His large hands were folded in front of him and they were tightly clenched, looking around with icy blue eyes. Then they landed on Daryl and the world seemed to tip side ways. Merle had a habit of fucking Daryl over. Taking his truck when he needed it, eating the last food in the fridge, trying to force him into rooms with junkie whores. But this was different and they both knew it.

Daryl sat down at the table.

"Hey, little devil." It's hoarsely spoken and it makes Daryl's chest feel like it's caving in. He stays silent.

"Look, kid," Merle tries, expression falling. Daryl looks at his brother and waits for the rest of the sentence that never comes. "How're you holding up?"

Daryl shrugs his shoulders and bites at the inside of his cheek. "'Bout as good as I can be being in prison."

Merle cracks a smile, "Yeah, I know. Kind'a fucked up with that one, huh?"

Daryl snarls, "Fuck you, Merle. Why the hell didn't you come forward when they had me in court?"

Merle huffs, look hardening. "I had some shit I had to take care of. Real shit. Now stop being a damn baby, you're only in here for a year. I served more than that and I came out fine- "

The younger cuts him off with bitter laughter, "Yeah, 'cause I wanna come out exactly like you did."

Merle growls, "Now you listen here, boy. I'm trying my best. I'm trying to get what'chu call-- A damn lawyer. I'm gonna get one and I'm gonna get you out."

The teen shakes his head, "That's damn big talk. All it is," He grits his teeth, glancing down at the table. Then Merle seems to explode with anger, glaring daggers off towards a different table.

"Fuckin' Christ, what in the hell is he looking at? You know that fucker?"

Daryl turns his head and he nearly sighs and drops his head into his hand because yes, he does 'know that fucker.' Rick is staring at them but once he sees Daryl he politely ducks his gaze away and goes back to talking with the man that he'd been with. "Yeah, I know him."

Merle narrows his eyes at Rick, "He's been staring over here for nearly the whole damn time. Don't like it."

Daryl shakes his head once more. "Merle, said I know him. He's.. He's a friend."

"A friend?"

"Yeah, Rick's my friend."

  
\---------------

  
Daryl's known Merle long enough to know how this whole thing is going to play out. Merle is going to say that he's going to fix things, say that he's getting a steady job. Merle might follow through with it, find a factory job for a month or two but it always ends the same. His older brother has fallen ill to addiction and that's never going to change.

Daryl knows that. So, he doesn't expect anymore out of this nor does he expect an apology. However the teen can't help his anger. His hurt, the way that his stormy eyes won't meet any gazes. Not until that night. Jobs have already shifted and Daryl had to say goodbye to his library, something that he dearly misses but he carries on through the day, clenching his jaw as he helps with the laundry. No, Daryl doesn't calm until he's back in their cell.

Rick is already there and sitting on his bunk. His book is there, laying by him on the bunk but not open. The Dixon gives a sigh and leans against the bars, staring at Rick. They stay like that for awhile, a barrier of some sort between them since that morning. It's getting harder to ignore each other's pasts, harder to ignore the questions that want to bubble up.

Rick folds his hands together and rests his elbows on his knees before staring at the empty space next to him intentionally before looking at Daryl. An invitation. Daryl takes it and walks over, sitting next to Rick.

"Looks like the man you were with didn't appreciate me looking towards you."

Daryl puffs out a breath of air and shrugs, "He don't like much anymore." Then after he swallowed, "He's my brother. Merle." Then he looks at Rick in a silent question, wondering who the man was that was with Rick.

Rick brings up a hand, rubbing at his jaw. "Was my partner," His words are so careful like he's afraid to bring the subject of his past job up. "On the force.. His name's Shane. Stubborn man," The older one huffs out a breath of amusement that's tinged with sadness. "He won't stop coming no matter how hard I tried to get him to stop at first."

"Why didn't you want him to come?"

Rick blinks, looking towards the bleak floor. "Didn't want to face him. Didn't want to face anyone."

"And now?"

The man keeps his gaze on the floor. "Now.. I'm glad. What about you?"

Daryl understands the silent question and he shrugs. "My brother being 'round ain't gonna help me no more than it ever did." Rick furrows his brow and shoots the teen a questioning look. Daryl sighs, "He's the one who got me in here. And ya don't gotta believe me, but it's true. He talks big game, saying he's gonna bust me outt'a here." He gives a smile, tinged with tiredness. "Ain't stupid enough to believe him. Know I've gotta serve my time."

The younger one gets up to leave but Rick's hand stops him, guiding him back to the bed. His hand moves, comes up to the back of Daryl's neck and squeezes. "I believe you."

The hand shifts and a thumb runs over the line of his jaw and Daryl sucks in a small breath, pushing slightly closer. They're both straining, both pushing forward and pulling back at the same time.

"You should get some sleep," The former cop murmurs, his thumb just barely brushing against Daryl's chin before he's pulling himself away, head down like he's ashamed of what he's done.

"You too," Daryl tries, fingers finding Rick's wrist to squeeze at before he gets off the bunk and moves to the top one.

  
\---------------

  
_Rick had shed his uniform already, just in from a day of work at the station._

_It's late but he can't help going over to Carl's crib to peek over and look. The baby is sound asleep, dark hair atop his head and in light blue footie pajamas. The young man scoops the child up, cradles him in his arms. His head bends and he lets his nose and forehead ever so gently rest against the child's. He inhales the baby's scent and is overcome by the love that he feels for the child. By the instinct to protect it from whatever may come. His heart feels so big in his chest, nearly bursting with his love._

_Rick pulls his head back after a moment or two but keeps Carl in his arms. Thank God he's a heavy sleeper, still sound asleep in Rick's arms._

_The rookie cop looks over when he hears the door open and sees Lori walk in. He smiles sheepishly at his wife, "Sorry, I was just coming over. Had to see him one last time before I went to bed," He whispered._

_Lori just gave a soft smile of her own. "It's amazing, right? He's amazing," She came up beside Rick and looked at her son lovingly._

_Rick loops an arm around his wife's shoulders and presses a kiss to her forehead before one to Carl's as well._

_"I'll always be here, you know. I'll never let anything happen to either of you. I promise."_

  
\---------------

  
Sometimes promises just couldn't be kept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise we're getting closer to finding out why Rick is in jail! Pinky swear! Anyways, please let me know what you think, leave a review and a kudos. All is appreciated, thanks a bunch! :)


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You think we'll get on the news this time?"

_"Brother, damn it. Look at me, Rick."_

_Big hands come to his face, making him look to his partner. "I'm fine, I'm fine. It isn't mine," Rick refers to the blood on his uniform._

_They're both drawing in shaky breaths, adrenaline shooting through their bodies. Shane eventually pulls away and gives a crazed woot, the laugh tumbling out of his mouth as he looks over the area. "You think we'll get on the news this time?"_

_Rick can only huff out an exasperated breath and shakes his head, walking out from behind the crate that they'd taken cover behind. The sirens and other officers are background noise to him as he straightens up to survey the area. Bullets litter the floor of the loading dock along with a few guns and packs that tried to poison their town. It was the biggest drug bust that their small town had ever seen._

_The officer's eyes paused on the three bodies laying on the ground. Two of them are at least dead, the other has an EMT at his side. Rick's shot one of the men and Shane the other. They'd been fired at first and thankfully it had only been the others blood that had been shed and not their own. He walks and stares down at the body that he's taken the life from and gives a rough swallow, fingers twitching at his sides._

_"It's a shame," He hears Shane say. "A few of 'em got away. Ran."_

 

_\---------------_

 

_Rick keeps thinking about it. It's hard to forget such an event. His boss seems more uneasy than usual and he's called into the mans office._

_"It's worrying."_

_"Sir?" He asks, hoping for clarification._

_"_ _One of the men that got away.. We identified him. He's not as stupid as the others that were in on the deal. His sheet's about a mile long, all charges for dealing guns, drugs and a few for injuring or killing officers."_

_Rick furrows his brow, "You think he'll come back?"_

_"His brother was shot, Grimes. It's not likely that he'll forget that." Then the higher ranking man sits back further into his chair, folding his hands by his mouth, his mustache showing. "He's a smart one, a right smart one that is."_

_Rick gets up from his spot and walks towards the door, "The warrants out for him already and if he keeps the car that he had on the cameras then we'll be able to track him." His boss only nods, not looking to the other officer and so he leaves._

_He doesn't think of it now but later he'll realize that he'd been the one to kill the brother._

 

_\---------------_

 

_He's at his dresser, hands planted on either side of him and his head hung low between his shoulders. He can't stop thinking about it._

_Arms wrap around him from behind and Rick looks down at the pale, slender arms. He gives a sigh._ _Lori's grip is tight, clutching at him, clutching at their strained marriage._

_"_ _It's late, Rick. You need to come to bed." He can only sigh again and shut his eyes, giving a shake of his head._

_Her voice comes a moment later. "Do you want to talk about it?"_

_"No."_

_"Rick.. Ever since you came home those few days ago you've been-"_

_Rick cuts her off, "Lori, please. I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine," He turns in her grip. "I'm fine and I'm here." He tries not to look at the disappointment in her eyes and instead cups her face in his hands, planting a gentle kiss to her forehead._

_"I love you," The man breathes it out. It's a truth that's been engrained in him over many years. Something that's nearly a habit but stronger. He knows that they're stronger than that. We are, he tells himself. "I love you," He repeats it and lowers his head to press a kiss to her lips._

_They part and the woman presses her head against his chest. "I hate this," She whispers._

_Rick doesn't have to ask. He knows what she hates. It's nearly engrained in him as much as his love for her is. He can only hold her tighter and in minutes to come he takes her upstairs, hand in hand to get a nights rest._

 

_\---------------_

 

_Things are quiet. Nothing changes in the next weeks._

_Rick and Shane go back to giving speeding tickets to mothers on their way to pick up their kids and life is quiet at the station outside of the usual domestic dispute cases and the occasional drug charge or DUI._

_Rick's planning to take Lori out in the next day back to one of the diners that they used to go to when they'd been a younger couple. He remembers the place fondly, remembers how they'd get milkshakes and fries, sitting there and holding hands. They've gotten a babysitter for Carl- Even though the boy insists that he doesn't need one, though when Carl figures out that it's Beth he shuts his mouth with blushing cheeks and only shrugs. Rick is sure that he won't mind it._

 

_\---------------_

 

_"Been a shitty ass day, Grimes. You wanna go out an get something to drink?"_

_Rick shakes his head at his partner, "Can't. I'm taking Lori out tonight."_

_"Date night, huh? That mean things are getting better between you two?"_

_Rick winces, "Things weren't bad. Just.. Strained. Things are getting better, tonight's gonna be better."_

_Shane seems to turn sincere for a moment and nods his head, "I'm sure it will, man. Let me know how it goes."_

_He nods his head, watching as the cars pass slowly in front of them. "What're you gonna do if you're not at our house?"_

_Shane scoffs, "I do have a life you know. 'Sides, I'll probably get a drink on my own. Pick someone up."_

_"I thought you were with.. Linda? Lacy?"_

_The other shrugs his shoulders, "Hell if I know. Didn't work out, wasn't good at switching off lights."_

_He rolls his eyes with a laugh because he's heard this 'sermon' from Shane a million times now but he also knows it's how his friend deflects. For now Rick lets the subject be._

 

_\---------------_

 

_Rick has to stay a bit later at the station than usual and he's puzzled by why Lori doesn't call or text him. She usually does that. Scratch that, she always does that._ _He chalks it up to her possibly being busy with Carl or not noticing the time._

_Eventually he drives back towards his house and parks the car, a light uneasy feeling in his stomach that plummets when he gets to the home. The garage door is open. Her car is gone._

_Slowly he gets out of the car, walking up to the front door. It's unlocked. Something twists at his heart._

_"Lori?" The officer calls once he's in the home. It's quiet, it's far too quiet._

_"_ _Carl?" He calls for his son and walks further into the home, already edging on panic with his fingers twitching at his side where his side arm is still strapped._

_Then, blood._

_Rick gets to the kitchen and blood is pooling on the floor. Two bodies lay there, the life sucked from them._

_An inhuman noise falls from the mans mouth as his legs gives out and he goes to his knees. The noise is one of grief, of not understanding. He scrabbles forward towards their bodies and his fingers get wet with blood, his uniform is stained with it._

_"_ _Car-- L-- Lo-- "_

_His words come out, only broken syllables and sounds as tears stream down his face. The man clutches their bodies close to him, sobbing like a newborn child. His life is falling, his world is tilting and he can't fix it._

_No pulse, no pulse, too much blood, not enough air, who, who, who, who?_

_Anguished cries fall from the mans mouth, broken and echoing._

_No one finds him until his neighbors hear the noises through the door that he's left open and they call for help. Help that won't be of any help for Rick Grimes--_

\--- "Rick," Daryl interrupts. His mouth is parted and his eyes are wide, feeling sick with grief that is not his own. But he feels it, right to the pit of his stomach. "You don't need to do this." 

The words have came out now, all of them. Spilled from Rick's mouth in a soft tone. 

Rick only shakes his head, "You said it yourself once. You deserve to know who you're living with." The older man looks unsteady even as they're sitting together on the bottom bunk, the cell only lit by the moonlight. His tone has been getting shaky, his gaze turning hazy.

Things are silent for a moment or two before Daryl speaks again in a whisper, "Did you kill him?" 

Rick's quiet for a long time, too. As if he's thinking over a long regret before his head gives once shake. "I came close." And then with haunted eyes he speaks, "He took Lori's car and I-- " 

The teen shakes his head. "No more, Rick. I.. I understand." He gets out, "No more." 

The two stare at each other and their fingers nudge along one another's in tight intertwines, squeezing with fingers pressing in a desperate grips. 

That night they don't say anymore. Not about Lori, Carl, Shane, or Merle. Not even about Joe. They just stay together, hands wrapped up tightly until they fall asleep. They do so together and in the same bunk, slumped uncomfortably on one another but neither of them would have wanted it a different way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! The long awaited Rick backstory. The reason why this update is late is because my original draft of this chapter got deleted so I had to write it again- Fun. Anyways, let me know what you think with a comment or a kudos, thanks!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna sit your ass down," Daryl points to the bed. "Sit."

The thing about ignoring Rick is that it's impossible. Daryl's not exactly trying to ignore Rick either, not really. Just certain thoughts that have invaded his head. 

It's mind boggling but he's never felt so close to another person before, so in tune. Able to read each other with just a look. Things hadn't even been that way with Merle. They'd understood each other for the most part but Merle never stuck around long enough for much else. Daryl thinks about these things, thinks about the way they have silent conversations with each other by using their eyes when they're at meal times. He thinks about the way Rick never makes him stand alone in the showers or any other part of his day. 

Daryl thinks about the touches that they share. The hands on his shoulders, the way they'd fallen asleep slumped together, that hand cupping his face with a finger rubbing at his jaw. 

That's his problem. Daryl simply can't stop thinking about it. He wonders if Rick thinks about it too.

 

\---------------

 

Days pass just like they always do and time goes with it. However it doesn't feel like it. 

He wonders why Joe hasn't made good on his threats yet. The man's group still looks at him during the meal time, still speaks towards him. It was different, it used to be different. Before Daryl could ignore the comments but it's changed. It's different now that he knows what those men are capable of, the lengths that they're willing to reach for what they want. Rick can tell that he's on edge, of course he can and Daryl just as easily can see that Rick is rattled by the fact that they haven't done anything yet. 

"You ever thought 'bout going outside?" Daryl asks one day during their free hours. He'd been on the loading dock for hours that day, carrying boxes into the prison that were loaded with food and supplies. He knows well enough that soon he'll be back in the fields. The thought isn't a comforting one but he doesn't hate it either. 

Rick frowns as he sits on his bunk, his finger rubbing along the edge of his usual book. He hasn't been reading it as much lately, as if releasing his demons has done a difference to him. "No," Rick's head shook. 

"Why not?" 

"Not a good idea." 

The teen huffs and glares, "Rick." 

"What?" It's spoke in a bored, exasperated tone. 

"You planning on rotting in this cell for the rest of your damn life?" He nearly cringes at his own wording because really, he doesn't know for how long Rick's in here for. The man hadn't shared that, hadn't shared exactly what he did to the man that'd taken his family from him other than the fact that he hadn't gotten the chance to kill him. 

The older man gave a sigh and let his hand retreat from the book and push through his curls. "I don't think it's a good idea." 

Daryl cocked a brow, "Why the hell not?" 

"It just isn't, Daryl." 

An idea struck the younger man and so he stood up, leaning against the opposite wall. "I'm gonna go out to the yard whether you follow me or not."

That gets Rick's eyes to narrow at him but the man still doesn't move, only shakes his head again. "Go, then." 

Daryl does. He straightens up, sends Rick one last look and he pushes out of their small living space. It's only seconds later when he hears a heavy sigh and footsteps following, that he smiles.

 

\---------------

 

Daryl understands why Rick didn't want to come out. He's never been out in the yard before during their free hours and it makes him uneasy. There are hardly any people out here alone. Mostly in groups. Some are more vicious looking than others, cutting their eyes towards the pair as they walk out. Rick stiffens and stands a bit taller, sticking close to Daryl as he nods his head towards the grassy area that's a bit closer to the fence and empty. 

They stand by the fence facing outwards in their silence, looking at their freedom that's just out of reach. "Don't think I've wanted anything as much as I want that," Daryl murmured even if he doesn't know what he'll do with it once he gets it. 

They both know what he's referring to. To the ability to walk out of here, to walk freely again. To be beyond the fences. Rick only nods. 

They stay like that for minutes more, enjoying the slight breeze that brings only a small relief from the sun. 

"I don't want to rot. But sometimes it makes more sense than being out here." Rick's words are honest, painfully honest. The man had been alone before all of this. Being alone in a place like this wasn't safe. 

The younger inmate looks to him and nods his head after another moment or two, wanting to show that he understands. They haven't revisited the subject of Carl and Lori, he isn't sure that they ever will but Rick knows where they stand. Knows that Daryl is still by his side. 

It isn't long until they hear someone nearing. Both of them turned, shoulders tense. What they see doesn't make them relax. 

"You mind if I talk to this one?" Joe asks this, eyes alight with amusement at seeing fury in Rick's eyes. 

Rick's tense, eyes holding a monstrosity that he hasn't let go in a very long time. Daryl shifts forward, pretending that his heart isn't trying to rip out of his chest with how fast it's beating. His thoughts are screaming at him to run, to get away from this man. 

"Not his call," Daryl subtly brushes his arm against Rick's, a silent message for the man to hold back. "What do you want?"

"So blunt. What's been eating at you, huh?" 

"What do you want?" Daryl repeats. 

Joe gives a sickly smile, "Just thought I'd say hi. See, I heard you had a run in with a few guys in the hall awhile back." 

Rick and Daryl both stiffen. Joe's speaking of himself, acting like he hadn't been the one to push up Daryl's shirt and put his hands inside, like he hadn't been the one to shove him against a wall. 

"You son of a -- " Rick tries to lunge forward and Joe's group visibly startles, looking towards them and getting up. The guards are glancing towards them as well, straightened up. 

Daryl's got a hand tight around Rick's wrist, trying to pull the man back. "Rick," He hisses. 

Joe still looks amused as always. 

"Hey! What's going on over there!" A guard barks this and Daryl yanks harder at the arm. 

"Rick, damn it," He hisses again. 

Rick's face and Joe's are close together, Rick breathing heavily. 

"Just giving you a warning, both of ya. Prison can be a dangerous place if ya aren't careful." Joe smirks, "Or at least that's what I hear." With that Joe takes a step back and shakes his head towards the guard. "Nothing to worry about here, we got it settled." 

He can see that the guard doesn't completely buy it, looking them all over again but eventually he relaxes and goes back to his spot. 

Rick shakes off Daryl's arm and goes walking away, leaving Daryl to follow behind. 

 

\---------------

 

When they get back to the cell Rick is wild. He paces like an animal and it brings back memories from that night. 

"He's warning us, it's going to happen, something is going to happen," His words are manically spoken. "He's threatening us- Me, you- He's going to do something and I won't, I'm not letting it happen." 

Daryl stands in front of him, "Damn it, Rick! Stop pacing, this ain't a big cell." His voice is loud and strong and they huff at each other. "Now here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna sit your ass down," Daryl points to the bed. "Sit." 

The older man wants to resist but his resolve shatters and he goes to sit on the bed. Daryl stands in front of him. 

"Now, listen to me. Ain't nothing gonna happen to me. You hear that? They can try but they aren't gonna do shit. Nothing's gonna happen, man." His voice turns softer as the words come out. "You can't.. Can't act that way 'round him. Too many of them and only two of us." 

Rick won't look at him and so Daryl puts a hand out, yanking lightly on Rick's curls. "Look at me, Christ, just listen to me." Rick glares again but he doesn't let it deter him. Instead Daryl eventually sags to his knees, hand weakening in Rick's hair. 

"You can't let that shit bother you.. Or else he's gonna do something, gonna get you to strike first. Can't do that. You were the one who told me that, remember? To ignore him. To ignore all of them." He's not aware of it but he's on the ground between Rick's knees. "No.. You ain't gonna do it. Promise me, Rick. I swear to fuckin-- Do it, promise me you ain't gonna do something stupid." He feels a presence on his forehead and it takes him a moment to realize that it's Rick's forehead. 

"Don't make me promise that. It's not fair," The older one murmurs. 

"Fuck it ain't. Promise me, Rick." His voice is weakened now and he presses more against Rick's forehead and the man doesn't say anything. Not yet. Instead a hand comes out and strokes through his hair until he finally hear a heavy sigh. 

"I won't do anything." 

The sit like that until Daryl can't feel his knees anymore, soaking each other's presences up with their foreheads pressed together and their eyes closed. 

 

\---------------

 

Eventually he'd gotten up on wobbly legs, knowing that they couldn't stay like that for someone to see. 

Daryl crawls up onto his top bunk and reads. He's still reading the book about the cowboy that reminds him of Rick. The one with the big hat and spurs on his boots. He doesn't have much left, only a chapter and so he focuses on the book and lets himself get sucked into the universe. 

In the end the man is shot, killed down in his last lawless conquest. There is no one to mourn him. 

Daryl puts the book down gently by his side despite the urge to throw it across his cell. It angers him. He doesn't want to compare the man to Rick anymore. Doesn't want to entertain the thought. The teens fingers twitch with the need to hold something, to squeeze at his sheets or rip at the book but he doesn't. He knows it wont do him any good. 

Instead Daryl stays quiet and once he hears that Rick's breathing has settled down he peaks over the edge of his bunk and looks down. The man is sleeping now, peaceful for the moment. Daryl ignores the foolish thoughts that tell him to go down and stroke away that stray curl that's out of place. He just stays and watches. Watches until his own eye lids get heavy. He gives one last look before settling back on his own bed. 

Sleep takes him in minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, enjoy the soft and cute touches while they last. Dun dun dun!
> 
> Pretty please give a kudos if you enjoyed and drop a comment letting me know what you think, every comment truly brightens my day! Thanks :)


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl isn't sure whether he wants to hit Rick or press closer to him.

The night passes and Daryl doesn't hear much shuffling. In the morning he realizes that it was a good sign. No nightmares. 

Rick looks strong today. Not strong in the way of bulging muscles but instead the man's eyes are brighter, burning with something hidden and his chin is up with his shoulders squared as if he can do anything in the world. Daryl half way believes him. Is helpless but to believe me. 

Their relationship has shifted again, he can feel it. It's in the way that Rick looks to him when he's woken up. The way that their arms brush casually and they stand close together in the cell when they stretch their arms above their heads with yawns. 

They move as a pair, somewhat like a well oiled machine. For breakfast they sit together and trade food without talking, knowing exactly what the other wants and doesn't want before digging into their food. 

It's nearly a good morning, pleasant even before he realizes something. Joe hadn't made any comments towards them today. It was a common occurrence and the fact that their was silence today.. Unsettled him. He could tell that Rick had noticed. The older one's blue eyes were burning a hole in Joe's back. Daryl nudged the other with his shoe and Rick looked up but only shook his head before looking back to his food. He could see Rick still sneaking glances towards Joe and the others but he doesn't say anything about it. 

They eat their breakfast in silence. 

 

\---------------

 

Daryl isn't sure whether he wants to hit Rick or press close to him. 

It's infuriating, really. The man is sticking to his side like glue and usually he doesn't have that problem except Rick isn't at his side. Instead Rick is standing a pace ahead of him, still mostly side to side but his shoulder is always in front of Daryl's, the back of his shoulder blade brushing against Daryl's front. Every time he speeds up so does Rick and it goes on like this while they walk. 

"Rick," The teen hisses but said man pretends like he doesn't hear him and simply keeps walking slightly in front of Daryl like a loyal guard dog as they go towards the shower rooms. 

Daryl knows that he has good intentions and so he silently fumes to himself, keeping his thoughts private as they go to their usual spot in the shower room. He sighs once he's under the water but he doesn't think he'll ever get used to this. To the eyes that linger, to the jeers and louds voices. 

Daryl blows out a breath and looks to his side for a moment. Rick is there and stripped down. 

The man's chest is lean but there's muscle showing. He feels his face heat up and he quickly looks away, feeling momentarily disgusted with himself. He won't let himself look. That would make him no better than Joe. However he knows that Rick looks. Not at his body, specifically. He can feel eyes on his back. At the scars that criss- cross over his skin. He knows that Rick wonders about him just in the same way that he wonders about the scars that Rick has, the ones on his side but neither of them ever say anything. There's an unspoken agreement not to pry into those scars. They both know that while the scars may be healed what caused the scars might certainly not be. 

The Dixon scrubs roughly at his skin to give himself something to focus on before leaving the shower room in minutes.

 

\---------------

 

Axel is hovering. 

It's particularly annoying today and Daryl's not sure why. Maybe it's how the sun is beating down on them. Or maybe it was the giant bug that had just landed on his arm and bit him but either way his patience has ran thin. 

They're both outside and in the fields today and instead of the idle chatter that they share, Axel has instead just lingered and looked. 

Daryl's bent over in the dirt when he finally snaps, "The fuck do you want?" He nearly feels guilty for the cringe that he sees coming from the blonde haired man. 

"Nothing," Axel shakes his head. He can only sigh, rubbing a hand against his forehead as he tries to wipe away the sweat that's gathered there. 

"You been staring at me for a good fifteen minutes. Spit it out." 

The older man only kicks absently at a clump of dirt, a look of guilt and apprehension on his face. "I'm sorry, didn't mean nothing by it." His voice is soft and meek and Daryl knows that he can't push an answer out of Axel when he acts like this. He gives Axel another stare with narrowed eyes before shaking his head once and carrying on with his job.

 

\---------------

 

When Daryl gets back to the cell Rick is there with a book in his hands only it's not the usual book that he obsesses over. No, it's Daryl's book. 

Instantly he narrows his eyes at the book and feels a muted rage for it, huffing at seeing it in Rick's hands. 

"You finish it?" Rick asks. 

The teen leaned against the wall and nodded his head, unwilling to say much more. 

"I found it on the floor." Rick speaks this and looks up at Daryl, a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

"Didn't like it is all," Daryl frowned, crossing his arms. "Must'a dropped it on accident." 

That gets Rick to breathe out a puff of laughter. Something small and quiet but still there. "You seemed to like it well enough a few days ago." 

He shrugs, "Did like it then. Don't like it now." Rick cocks a brow and hums encouragingly for the younger one to go on. Daryl hesitates and he's not sure why. He's nearly reluctant to explain himself, his mind rejecting the words that tumble from his mouth. "Main character died in the end. Was shit." 

It makes Rick pause, thumbing through the pages. "At least it's realistic," He speaks after a moment or two. 

"Wasn't looking for realistic. Was a shitty ending, don't give a shit 'bout that book." He glares at it like it's personally offended him and it only makes the light in Rick's eyes grow as if he'll always be endlessly amused by this. 

Then Daryl's eyes look from the book in Rick's hands to the book that sits beside Rick. The one that Rick nearly always has with him. The man follows his gaze and that light dampens, looking at the book for a moment or two in silence before grabbing it and putting Daryl's book to the side. Things are still silent and tension seems to fill the air but it eventually breaks. 

"It's only fair, right? You told me about yours," He nodded to the book. 

Daryl wants to tell him that it's not the same. That his book doesn't mean anywhere near what Rick's book must mean to him. Rick nods to the spot beside him and even though Daryl wants to say that Rick doesn't have to do this.. He goes and sits. 

The cover is worn much like Daryl's book and Rick opens it, flipping through the pages. 

"It's not a good story," The man starts. "The book didn't win any awards nor did the author. The story gets boring in times, too." Rick frowns, flipping to a particular page. Daryl leans closer to peak at what the man is brushing his finger over. It's loopy handwriting, cursive writing that Daryl can't read well but it looks better than his own chicken scratch style. 

"Lori was in a book club. She was just one of those women, you know?" 

Daryl knows. It's not a bad thing necessarily but it fits well with the white picket fence that Daryl imagines when he pictures Rick's old life. He glances at Rick again and the other's gaze is part fondness and partially heartbreak. 

"She would write notes in the book. Sometimes it was about the book and hell- " Rick smiles wearily. "Sometimes it was part of a grocery list." His head shakes, "She used to read it to Carl when he couldn't go to sleep. I don't think he really liked the story either but it was something that helped." 

Daryl pieces things together. This isn't just a book. It's a part of Lori, a part of Carl. A part of a life that he no longer lives but desperately holds onto. It's a memory that he doesn't want to let fade. Their words drift apart but they sit close in understanding, arms pressed tight and Daryl tries to give all the comfort that he can.

 

\---------------

 

Eventually they have to go to dinner. 

They make their usual way down towards the cell block where they always eat. Once there they wait in line but Daryl feels something odd. A sort of tension, a buzzing, a twist in his stomach. He frowns and looks around. 

"Let's get our food and get to the table," Rick murmurs this close to his ear as if he hadn't known. As if they didn't do this everyday but something in the room is making the man feel uneasy. Daryl doesn't say any of what's going on in his head and instead he just nods, going about his way in the line to get his food and get back to their small table. 

They sit but neither of them touch their food. Instead Daryl's glancing around with wary eyes, looking over the masses of people. Nothing seems out of the ordinary but some men are glancing around just as warily as Daryl is as if expecting something. And more than that, many are looking at Joe. 

He glances back at Rick and he can see that he's about to open his mouth to say something but a yell cuts them off. 

Both of their heads snap in one direction to see what's happened. A man has punched another man but it's quickly spiraling into much more. The unknown pair is making a mess, knocking into others and food trays, making inmates around them irritated. 

Then another yell. Daryl looks over at the other side of the room and sees another fight breaking out. 

Daryl looks and sees that Rick has gone pale as if suddenly realizing something.

He can hear guards yelling in the background but the guards can't get to the fighting men because suddenly everyone is on their feet. Everyone is on their feet and fighting. It's anarchy. It's something out of a movie. 

A hand is gripping his arm and Daryl jolts, turning fast but he relaxes when it's only Rick. When had the man gotten up, he thinks to himself.

"Get up, now. Get to the cell. Just-- Get out of here, we need to get out of here now." Rick is speaking urgently, pulling Daryl towards the direction of one of the few ways out. Their path is cut off by a few men that are tumbling around, yelling and throwing punches at each other. 

Inmates are being thrown around over tables, lunch trays are being used as weapons and he can hear something over the loud speaker. A voice is yelling something and he can't hear it, why can't he hear it? It's so loud, too loud, he can't think. Blood is flying through the air and loud thumps of meaty fists meeting bodies can be heard.

"Exit, get to the exit!" Rick is shouting, pulling Daryl with him. 

There's bodies crowding around their own and the only thing that's tethering his mind to sanity are the hands on his arms. Rick's hands. But then all of a sudden Rick's being pulled from him. It's like a scene out of a nightmare, watching as hands come from the crowd- He can't see who the hands belong to. They pull. They tug. 

"Rick!" He latches onto the mans arm. 

Rick's eyes are wide with terror, with realization. "Get to the exit! Go! I'll be fi-- " Rick never speaks the rest of the sentence because he's tugged further into the crowd and is pulled out of Daryl's sight. 

"Rick!" The teen yells, trying to push his way through the crowd. He needs to find Rick, needs to get to him. His heart is clenching in his chest and worry and fear propel his body forward, pushing prisoners out of his way as he fights through the crowd like a man possessed. 

More guards are coming now, trying to reign in the situation as best as they can. They have different gear now and he knows it, knows what riot gear looks like. 

Daryl doesn't care, he just needs to find Rick. 

He isn't sure how long it takes. It feels likes hours of being jostled and pushed at until he spots a body on the floor. 

Daryl's heart constricts and then plummets. And then he's running, running towards the body and falling to his knees.

Rick Grimes is laid out on the floor with blood seeping through his orange clothes. 

In the end the guards have to pull a screaming Daryl away as the boy clutches onto Rick, feral and wild as they force him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.. Cliff hanger! Sorry! Hope you all liked it, please leave a kudos if you did or a review telling me what you think. Every kudos and comment brightens my day. Thanks everyone! :)
> 
> Also sorry for typos if there are any DX


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It burns. It all burns.

Sweat is dripping from his forehead but he doesn't dare touch his face. He keeps coughing and with it comes drool that he can't stop from the repeated action. Slowly Daryl wipes his mouth on the side of his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. 

It burns, it all burns. 

He can't open his eyes now and his throat, nose and eyes feel swollen. 

It hardly matters anymore. Rick is gone.

The name of the older man bounces around in his head and he cringes, swallowing roughly. He has the mans dried blood all over his hands and he just wants it to go away. He needs it to go away. Daryl feels the compulsion to pick at his skin till it's all gone.

The small cell had never felt this big before and he hates the size of it. Daryl despises how it feels. 

He can still hear the shouts of some of the prisoners, some in pain and some still not giving up their fight. The noise seems like background static to him. He can't focus on anything but the burning in his eyes and the one person that had meant something to him and this place. Rick Grimes. 

Daryl feels his eyes fill with a liquid that he won't admit to having and he opens his eyes to little slits, pushing himself off the floor to walk over to one of the bunks. He collapses against Rick's bed, curled up into a ball. He tucks his nose against the pillow and inhales deeply. The breath settles shakily in his chest as he burrows closer to the last parts of Rick that he has left.

 

\---------------

_"Stand down," A guard yells. The guard has yelled this several times now._

_Daryl can't hear him. It's all in the background of his mind. He needs to get back to Rick._

_He's kicking now, kicking and yelling, trying to break free of the grip that's around him. "Lemme go! I need'a--  Need-- "_

_Daryl's head whips back as pepper spray is sprayed into his eyes, a horrid cry ripping from his throat in his pain, blindsided by the sudden burning in his eyes._

_There's a loud crash and he's dropped to the ground suddenly but he makes no action to move, hands rubbing at his eyes as the fire seems to consume his body._

_He can hear more shouts. More yells. The thuds of rubber bullets. The sprays from the canisters._

_"Get him out of here!" Comes a yell. "Get the injured out of here, now!"_

_Daryl feels hands on his body and he forces himself to his feet._

_It's a blur. It's a blur and Rick is not with him and he feels so damn lost._

\---------------

 

Daryl's lost track of the time. He's in his cell still and it seems to be sometime in the day because of the light that's slightly shining in through the cell block. 

He doesn't move. None of the prisoners do other than possibly pacing in their cells. 

They're locked in for the moment. He knows how this goes, has heard about it from Merle. Merle's lived through minor riots in his time and he told Daryl about it. Referred to it as 'a cowards way of getting dirty work done that fucks everyone else over.' They'll be isolated until they can try to figure out who mainly was responsible for the riot. He knows that Joe won't be caught. The man is too smart for that. No, he had others start it. He had diversions. He'd had this planned. Daryl knows that they'll be stuck in these cells until the higher ups feel like it's safe to let them all out again but even then their privileges won't be given to them until they earn them back. 

Time passes and he doesn't notice at all. He stays in Rick's bed and keeps himself grounded that way. The pain from the pepper spray is nearly gone now. Just lingering. He gets up to go to the bathroom when he needs but ignores the food that's brought to his cell. Of course they wouldn't be let out for meal times. That's when this all had started, after all. 

At first he sticks to his original thoughts about ignoring the food. He doesn't feel hungry in the slightest but he can hear Rick's voice in the back of his head, whispering to him. "Go on, eat." It says. He can nearly see Rick's frowning face now. Stern but gentle. 

Half an hour after the food comes Daryl walks over, picks up the pieces of bread and shoves it in his mouth, eating with an animalistic edge to him. He downs the milk that comes with it but doesn't touch the rest for the moment. Instead he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and goes back to the bed, setting himself down. 

The book is sitting neatly at the end of the bed right where Rick had left it. The teen is partially tempted to read it but he knows that he doesn't have permission. He keeps his hands to his own things and sits on the bed, closing his eyes for a moment. Daryl doesn't want to think about Rick but the question is still ringing in his head. Is the man alive? It's not like he'll know. No, he's not a relative to Rick or anything of the sort. If Rick's dead he'll find out by getting a new cellmate. The thought haunts him and makes his fingers curl against the edge of the bed. 

Daryl's head snaps up when he hears shuffling. Clangs, too. His blood turns to ice as Joe is walked by his cell. The animal is in cuffs and there's a few guard's flagging him, walking him past. Joe looks in and catches Daryl's eyes and smirks. The teen feels anger flooding him, rage consuming him. His eyes don't shy away. He meets the old mans stare with a chilling one of his own and feels an urge that he tries not to read into much. An urge to kill. 

 

\---------------

 

_"Get the nurse!"_

_"We're gonna need more than a damn nurse for this!"_

_The noise is deafening and they yell to have a chance at hearing each other._

_Abe is so God damned over this day already. But more than that Rick Grimes is laying down on the floor and he has his hand pressed against the stab wound. "C'mon, buddy. Stay with me. You're gonna be just fine."_

_A prisoner comes running at them but another guard blocks. "Mother dick," He slaps lightly at Rick's cheek. "Talk to me. Anything, c'mon."_

_"'S... 'S loud."_

_The ginger barks out a laugh. "Yeah, you're fucking right it's loud." But then he hears something else. A mumble that he can hardly make out. Rick keeps repeating it. The same thing, over and over._

_"Daryl," Rick's voice is broken, twitching in pain._

_The man glances over towards where Daryl Dixon is being held down by other guards and winces, watching as one pulls out the pepper spray. "Yeah, he's alright. Your boy's just fine, already in his cell."_

_Rick mumbles something else but Abe can't make it out. Can't bring himself to care either, not when Rick's eyes are closing. "Fuck! Get a stretcher, now! We gotta take this one to the hospital!"_

_It's a blur of movement from there._

_The sirens wail and Abe can only grimace through the long ride to the hospital._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, updates might be a little off schedule and not as quick because I have a lot of stuff going on currently but here's a little tid bit to explain things more. Thanks all for the support, every comment and kudos is appreciated! :)


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old age, bad health, suicide attempt.

Daryl nearly growls when the guards come to his cell. He knows that it's protocol, he knows that this has to be done but they're touching Rick's things, his personal belongings and it irks him. 

Daryl's not sure how much time has passed. They're still on lock down and he knows that it at least has been days, possibly a week already. Rick's still gone. That's the thought that sticks to him. 

The guards are going room to room, checking for items that aren't allowed. They stand there before him looking tired, ragged, exhausted and not in the mood to deal with another unruly prisoner but the way that the one guard handles Rick's book makes his fingers twitch. 

"Don't," The teen grunts. 

The guard looks towards him, eyes narrowing. "I don't think you're in the position to tell me what to do right now," He looked towards his fellow guard's and nods his head. "Go." 

They grab at Daryl and he struggles in their arms before he's pushed against a wall. "You best lemme go!" Daryl snarls this, squirming like a worm in their grip. 

"Christ, kid. Hold still!" 

That voice is familiar. 

He turns his head to see fire red hair. Abe. The man is down cast, eyes not holding the light that they usually do. "They're just doing a search. Sooner you let it happen sooner they can move onto the next cell." 

Daryl turns to stone and listens, keeping his body still as he's patted down and searched. They find nothing. 

His body is shoved at again and he hears Abraham huff, "Man, knock that shit off. He's a kid." 

The guard snorts, "A kid in prison. The kid part doesn't matter so much anymore." 

"His cellmate was stabbed during the riot, go easy on him. You and I both know there's no reason to go ripping up their shit," Abe nods to where one of the guard's is still looking through their stuff, knocking things this way and that and moving around the bunk beds. 

Daryl doesn't want pity and he glares fiercely at the guard but it made the man sigh at the very least and shook his head. "Like I said, he got himself into prison. He can deal with the consequences of it." 

With that the man nodded to his other guard's and they were gone, leaving only him and Abe behind. Immediately Daryl is pushing off the wall. "Where is he?" 

"Where's who?" 

"Cut that shit out, you know who. Where's Rick?" 

The ginger presses his lips together, sighing. "I've gotta get going to the other cells. I don't have time to sit on my ass and chit chat right now." He makes a move to leave and Daryl moves forward again, hand going to the mans arm. Abe is all at once shoving him off and pushing him against the wall, an unhinged look in his eyes. "Look, I saved your hide back there but if you keep up this attitude there won't be anything left for Rick to see when he gets out of the hospital." 

Daryl sags, eyes going wide. "He's alive-- He- When is he- " 

Abe lets go of him and huffs load. "I don't know," His voice is loud and brash but he softens after a moment. "I don't know, kid. All I know is that he's alive. I'll be checking on him later when I get off from here." 

The Dixon wants to see him, he wants to hear Rick's voice or deliver a message to the man. "Can you- " But he's cut off as shout of 'Abe' is heard. The large man is gone in a blink, cell door rattling shut behind him. 

Daryl looks around. Their things are all over the ground. He can only swallow and try to pick up the pieces. 

 

\---------------

 

Daryl thinks that he's going crazy. 

He's been stuck in this damned cell for awhile now. He knows it has to have been a week already. Maybe two weeks. He doesn't know. 

The prison is buzzing with energy that's begging to be released. He can hear the two next to him in a cell, always arguing and snarling at each other in their confinement. The lone man on his other side just paces in his cell. He can't see but he can hear. He can hear the slow drag of his feet against the cement ground. It goes on for awhile. Hours at a time until someone from a different cell snaps at him to cut it out, to settle, to sit. 

Daryl stays in Rick's bed mostly. He's gotten most of their things back to the way they were but it does little to settle his mind. All he can think about is Rick. Why wasn't the man here yet? Would they even put him back with Daryl? He finds himself staring at the wall and counting the cracks and marks in them. It gives him something to do as he wonders about the outside world. Maybe they made the news, he thinks distantly to himself with a near smile curling to his lips. He can see it now, Merle watching the TV with some whore that he paid for sitting on his lap. He can picture his brother's eyes going wide as it flashes over the news channel. Daryl's unsure of why he gets glee from the image, maybe it should be worrying but he wants Merle to feel bad. He wants his brother to know what a shit situation he'd pushed him into. 

It occurs to him that he's not even sure for how long he's been here for. He only has to be here for a year but what in the hell was he going to do after that? He'd never exactly had a good name around town before but once people heard about him getting locked up? There went his chances for a job. And Rick. The man never specified how long he'd be in here for but Daryl doesn't like thinking about life without him. He doesn't like thinking about the man getting a new cellmate. The teen's unaware of where that possessive feeling came from but he's unable to stop it. 

Sometimes he imagines Merle in here with him and he has conversations with him. Mumbles or mutters, only quiet talking. Never anything to disturb the other prisoners. Sometimes he sees Rick. He never likes it when that happens because Rick feels like too much of a ghost when he imagines him. It feels all too real that Rick could be gone. Either way Daryl knows that he's probably not the most sane person at this point, what with his imagination going wild. 

They're all in containment and he's not sure for how much longer. He knows that there must have been many casualties for them to be held this long. It must have been bad. 

The only time when he gets up from his cell is when he hears one of the big doors opening or a cell door being opened. Sometimes prisoners are taken. Transported. It happened more during the beginning and Daryl can imagine those are the ones that are being held accountable for the riot. They never see those prisoners again. Other times he walks to his cell door for food or is walked down in cuffs for his mandatory showering time that's heavily guarded. But that's all.

Some days Daryl wants to claw out his hair and other days he just lays there with a dazed look in his eyes. He knows that he should be thankful for the bars. They're probably the only thing keeping him safe from Joe and the others at the moment but he doesn't feel thankful. He only feels hatred. 

The teen tries to go to sleep and is lulled into a restless night by the sound of feet scraping across the floor, the sound that is forever coming from the cell next door.

 

\---------------

 

Anything at this point is a source of entertainment. Whenever a door opens or closes or anything is heard they all rush to their cell doors, eager to see the commotion. 

There are more guard's now but Daryl notices that some of the guards from before aren't here any more. It makes his stomach twist and he hopes that they're alive. That's the only noise that they hear, guard's switching shifts, meals coming to them and the occasional loud outburst of a prisoner in his cell who's gone mad. 

The man that paces next door has become nearly comforting to him now, something that's familiar but one day it stops. Daryl doesn't think much of it for the moment until someone starts shouting. 

"He ain't moved for very long," Comes a holler. 

Eventually a guard comes to check and her face pales. 

The man is dead. Daryl doesn't ask why, he knows he won't get an answer. The man was old, it could have been an number of things. Old age, bad health, suicide attempt. 

Daryl watches as they drag his lifeless body from the cell with the attempt to revive him but he knows better. He knows the man is gone. He stares at the mans bloodied feet as he's taken away. 

After that a sense of dread falls over the prison. Daryl nearly wishes that Joe was in the same cell as him so he could take his frustration out on the man. He wants to punch, to release his anger out on the man who caused this all. 

 

\---------------

 

It's been three weeks. That's what they've been told. They're also told that they are going to be released tomorrow. Allowed out into their semi normal routines. Visitors will not be permitted yet but it's a start. 

Energy buzzes now, renewed in all of them with the want to get out. But Daryl's joy is dampened lightly. Joe is still here. He has an idea of what's coming but his mind doesn't seem to care. 

Then the buzz moves to a gentle roar. He hears door opening and closing, murmured voices. Guard's are switching shifts again, he thinks to himself. 

But the commotion doesn't seem to stop. There are whispers, people pressed against their cell doors to see a newcomer. With a sigh he heaves himself off of Rick's bed and walks over to the bars. There's movement towards the doors that lead into the hall way. 

Daryl's heart stutters in his chest when he sees chocolate brown curls and a lean figure walking beside Abe, looking as if he's leaning against the guard. He sees him only in a flash, straight through the doors and into the hallway but it's enough to know. 

Rick Grimes is back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile guys, a few weeks but thankfully I got everything that I needed to get handled all done so I can hopefully get back to writing more often. This chapter might have some typos in it, my apologies. But here you go! I can't wait to write the next chapter and I think the reason why is very obvious. Thanks all who are still sticking with this story, your support means everything! Leave a kudos or a comment if you liked, thanks again! :)


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "God damn it, you're like a squirrel."

Daryl sat down in front of the bars for the rest of the night, eyes trained on the door with the hopes that he'd catch a glimpse of Rick again. 

He doesn't.

Only when exhaustion becomes too much and he nearly bashes his head against the bars once or twice does he retreat back to his bed. Really it's Rick's bed and the thought of having to leave it when Rick comes back makes disappointment cloud his mind but Rick actually being back outweighs all of it. The teen does not get much sleep that night, listening to the snores around him and imagining Rick's gentle noises instead. 

In his own mind he can hear gentler snores, he can see blue eyes and he can very nearly feel fingertips against his skin.

 

\---------------

 

The next morning Daryl opens his eyes with an eagerness close to the one seen on Christmas morning when children get out of bed. His eyes dart around quickly as if expecting Rick to be there. Again, that disappointment clouds over him in a way that makes it hard to see or feel anything else. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face and feels stupid for thinking that Rick would be there. Of course Rick wouldn't be there. 

Eventually Daryl forces himself out of the bed and starts to get ready for the day. He can hear the anxious chatter and noise all around him. It's their first day out since the riot. The thought of Joe vaguely flashes across his mind but he's been sitting with the thoughts for too long. It no longer makes him want to cower behind the bars. There's a fire in his body now and he wants to unleash it. 

When they all start towards breakfast Daryl can see that things are still restrained. There's more guards now, all in heavier gear. Watching them. Waiting. 

He hates that this has happened, hates even more that he can't see some of the usual guards. Even though he'd been raised to dislike law enforcement and those types of people even he can recognize that some of these men and women didn't deserve to get hurt in the riots. 

No one moves around much, they all know that the guards will be jumpier and that there'll be more rules. A stricter curfew, those sorts of things. 

After awhile the chatter becomes louder and it's nearly to where it usually is. He can see Joe. The silver haired man is up in the front of the line, getting his food and flashing his yellowed teeth in a rotten smile at the cooks before taking his usual seat. 

For the first time since he'd gotten here Daryl takes his food and he sits alone. He stares over at Rick's spot and feels something ugly rolling around in his stomach. When he glances up people are looking. Not just Joe. Rick had been well known it seems even if a big portion of the prison had stayed away from him. Daryl meets the stares from the people around him, even Joe. They stare at each other for a moment or two until Joe glances towards Rick's empty seat and he smirks. Daryl feels furious, wants to feel the mans blood on his hands but the presence of a guard just behind him reminds him that he can't let that become a reality. 

Daryl breaks the contact and eats his food that tastes of nothing.

 

\-------------------

 

It all happens in the shower room. 

Daryl finds it a bit ridiculous really. Joe can't really do anything to him here. Not in front of so many people but then again, Joe was feared. Joe was a man that had reins over a lot of people and that made him want to fidget as he started stripping off his clothes. 

He went to a lone shower, the one that he usually went to and made it through the whole shower without incident. He's washed himself clean, scrubbed at his skin roughly till he was positive that it would turn pink under the treatment that he'd given it. 

Daryl felt lost here. Lost without Rick by his side. It's scary, depending on other people. In a way he hates it. It's made him weak. Rick has made him weak but he can't change that. 

He's bare and alone but he manages to dry off and get on his pants before a hand lands on his shoulder. It's meaty and big and it makes his skin crawl. 

Daryl turns quickly, eyes zeroing in on Joe. The man is standing there, eyes only amused as Daryl smacks his hand away. 

"Christ, kid. What's the bad behavior for? I thought you'd be a bit more comfy now without all that bacon grease on ya." His friends laugh as if he's made some great joke and not just a variant of the same pig and cop jokes that they stick to. 

"The fuck do you want," Daryl mumbles it at first, eyes on Joe's chest with his head down. His jaw is clenched with the fury that he feels inside. 

"What was that? Didn't hear ya there," Joe is still thinking all of this to be a joke and he knows that everyone's looking now. 

"Said what the fuck do you want." It's growled and Daryl finally feels like the rabid dog that he's been called all his life. 

Joe's smirk only widens, "Now, see here, I want a lot of things from you." 

He snaps, "The fuck do you want! Huh? You already got Rick fuckin' stabbed! You got half the prison injured, you got us all locked up! What are you gonna do? Stab me? Do it, then. Right here for everyone to see. Go on, I fuckin' dare you." His teeth are bared and he wants to snap them and bite but he refrains. 

Joe for his part, looks surprised and only sighs like he's disappointed. "Still got some fight in you.. It's a shame, really. I didn't wanna keep on hurting you like this. I thought taking out piggy boy would be enough." 

Daryl explodes in his anger. He's bursting forward, hands shoving at a heavy body. Joe laughs but gives a near snarl and shoves at Daryl back. His feet are slipping one the damp ground and Joe's bigger than him but he doesn't care. He wants the other to feel what he feels. His fingers dig into skin, wanting to rip. His knees are coming up and up, kicking with the want to hear the pain coming from Joe. But he's fighting sloppy and in the end Joe's still stronger than his teenaged body. He gets pushed onto the ground and distantly he can hear a guard's yell. 

Joe's on top of him but Daryl's still shoving at him with his hands but eventually a man is pulling Joe off of him. Daryl's growling, wanting to jump back at the man but arms hold him back. They're skinny things. Weak. 

"Daryl, please. C'mon now, don't do this." It's Axel's soft tone that finally makes him deflate. 

Only then does he recognize that the man to separate them had been Abe. The mans shock of ginger hair is unmistakable. Abe is yelling. Loudly. Daryl can't make out any of the words. He gets up and he runs, snatching up the rest of his clothes as he goes. He can hear Axel calling after him but he doesn't stop running until he's back in his cell. 

 

\---------------

 

Axel keeps looking at him. Daryl's out in the fields with the sun beating down on his sweat soaked back. 

He's surprised that Abe didn't run after him, that he's not in trouble. He doesn't let it bother him for long and focuses on keeping the bugs off of his skin instead. He keeps on his work in the fields, bending over and letting his fingers run through the dirt. 

He gives a rough sigh, "What do you want, Axel?" 

Axel looks startled like he hadn't expected to be caught in his staring. The man shrugs, fiddling with the cap of his water bottle as a bead of sweat works it's way down his face. "You shouldn't have done that in there with Joe." 

The teen snorts, "What, was I supposed to let him do whatever the hell he wanted?" 

The blondes lips pressed together and he shook his head, "You know I didn't mean that either." 

Daryl doesn't say anything back for awhile until Axel starts the conversation again. "I'm real sorry 'bout what happened with Rick." 

Daryl finally straightens up from his crouch, "You had something to do with the riot?" Axel paled, shaking his head. 

"Then I reckon you don't have shit to be sorry for." 

The man shrugged again, "Still am.. " His words trail off, like he wants to say more. 

"You didn't know Rick," Daryl bitterly spat it, jaw clenched as he walked a few paces away, glancing over the bean stocks.

"No, but I know you." 

The words make him weak and he looks over at the other and nods his head once, glancing back to the guard's who are watching them pick through the fields but only half heartedly. He turns back to Axel, "Why do you think Abe didn't do nothing about it? With me, I mean." 

The timid man looks off into the blue sky. "Can't say, really. I've been wondering about it myself. He'll probably tell the other guard's to keep their eyes on you.. But since he didn't give you a punishment he can't give Joe one either." Axel seems conflicted with his words. "Funny thing is, Abe ain't really one for bending the rules. You must be something real special, kid." 

He shakes his head, "I ain't nothing special." 

They work in silence for a little while more and when Axel opens his mouth to speak again he nearly groans but he lets the man have his time to talk. "If Joe tries something like that you can't fight it." It's nearly whispered. "Me and mine.. We'd stick up for you. But if you keep doing that then there won't be anything to stick up for anymore." 

He doesn't really know who Axel's group is. He's seen him with a few other, more burly fellows but if they're friends of Axel's then he'll trust them. At least to an extent. A warmth floods his chest and the younger one nods, sending a gaze towards the other. His gaze is full of thanks and it speaks his meaning more than his grunted out words ever could.

 

\---------------

 

Daryl's goes back to his cell and is disappointed but not surprised to see that Rick isn't back yet. He spends his night there. Of course he'd gone for lunch and dinner but for the rest he stayed here. 

The night comes before he realizes it and it's soon dark. It settles over him like a blanket, exhaustion working at his body as well and in a few minutes he's laying down on Rick's bunk. He glances at the bottom of his own bunk and wonders if Rick had ever done that, if he'd even touched the bottom of Daryl's bunk or had the urge to reach up and over and nudge at him. 

The Dixon closes his eyes before a rattling noise is heard. Before he could fully get his head up and his eyes opened there are hands on him, pushing him against the wall. He immediately starts to fight in the grip, flames of panic and terror licking at him before he hears it. 

"Stop making trouble for me, God damn it, you're like a squirrel. Quit moving 'round so much." Abe's voice floods over him and so he relaxed for a moment before realizing that there was still a pair of cuffs on him. 

"Abe? The fuck.. Lemme go, man." He twists in the cuffs and Abe growls. 

"Quit." 

"No! Where the fuck are you taking me?" He demands to know when he's moved towards the cell door. 

"Where the hell do you think, shit brains? Now settle or else I'll put ya straight back in." 

Rick, he thinks. He's taking me to see Rick. That must be it. That has to be it. 

Daryl finally understands why the cuffs were necessary when they walk by other guards. If Abe had been walking him around the cell block without cuffs while it was after hours they would have been questioned. 

Abe is walking him, a bit roughly at that but he knows that he deserves it after the stunt that he'd pulled earlier. The guard is grumbling about him the whole way there, about how he can't 'pull that shit again,' or about how he's 'sick and tired of saving you.' Daryl doesn't give a shit about any of it. Not when he sees where they're headed. The infirmary. 

"Rick's in bad enough shape that they let him have his own room, He's the only stab wound we got." Abe muttered before opening the door and shoving Daryl in. The teens eyes search all over the small room but there's a curtain pulled and he can't see Rick. 

"Abe?" It's Rick's voice and he tries to walk forward but Abe still has a hold of him. 

He nearly lets out a whine until the older one undoes his cuffs and lets out an amused breath, watching as Daryl takes a step forward and yanks back the curtain. Rick is sitting there, reclined in hospital bed. He's wearing a hospital gown and his curls look longer and he has scruff on his face and.. And they're frozen. 

They're both just looking at each other, blinking. Daryl takes a cautious step forward and he hates himself a little when he feels a stinging in his eyes. "Daryl?" There's that drawl that he's missed and Daryl comes to the edge of the bed, nodding his head. His fingers come out, twisting and grasping the edge of Rick's bed. 

"I.. I- " Daryl's voice breaks off pathetically and Rick holds out a hand for him. 

As soon as he sees the extended hand he's throwing himself forward and against the other. Rick instantly engulfs him in his arms, one hand going to his hair and the other planted against his back while Daryl tucks his face against Rick's neck and he just inhales, taking in the fresh scent of the man that he'd missed so much. Their hands are grasping too hard at each other, both desperate. Rick tugs Daryl's head back and they look at each other, two sets of blue eyes shimmering. The ex cop presses their foreheads together, both hands now tangled in Daryl's hair. 

"I.. I tried- I didn't," Daryl's words came out in a jumbled mess. "You were- The blood-- " 

Rick swallows roughly, "Shh," He murmurs. "It's alright, I'm alright." And then his resolve breaks too. "Fuck, c'mere." 

The other presses his face closer to tuck his head into Daryl's shoulder but their heads and limbs are a mess and somewhere along the way their lips brush in the tornado of movement. It's purely a mistake but it sends tingles throughout his body. 

Daryl goes deathly still as does Rick. And then the man was rubbing circles into his back again, his head against Daryl's shoulder. "Please.. Just, stay with me. It's alright." 

The younger one finally relaxed and he pressed his head back against Rick's neck, arms still grasping at one another. They go silent while they hold each other. 

Abe is forgotten, standing by the door but he soon opens it to leave, wanting to give them their privacy. 

He huffs. "You two are the reason that I drink at night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reunited and it feels so good!
> 
> Also, I soooo did not edit this chapter good. It was a hard one to crank out and my mind was just not with it from work-- So, here. I hope you like it. I hope it lived up to expectations of their reunion. Comment and lemme know what you think or leave a kudos. Thanks for all the support! :))


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I mean, I made friends."

Eventually they stop hugging. 

They pull apart but their hands are still one each other, somewhere, never letting go. They look over each other to make sure that this is real, that their minds aren't playing tricks on them as they feel over flesh with their fingers. 

Daryl's sitting on the edge of the bed, right beside Rick and he's got one hand on Rick's arm and the other is entangled with Rick's hand while the older one's free hand is clasped at Daryl's hip. The hold feels intimate but he doesn't want to let go. 

"Didn't know if you were dead or alive for awhile," Daryl murmurs this eventually, eyes looking right at Rick's chest. It's still covered by the hospital gown. 

Rick looks horrified for a moment, "Daryl, tell me you didn't.. Didn't do anything... " Anything dangerous, reckless, irrational. 

The Dixon sighed, thinking of his half fight with Joe. "Most the time we were locked up in the cells, didn't have time to do nothing." Then his lips pressed together. "Got into it with Joe. Was mad, real mad. Couldn't hold it in like you wanted me to." 

Rick's gaze hurts. It's filled with worry and sorrow. 

"Abe broke it up 'fore it got serious. Nothing ended up happening." The teen's head shook. 

The injured one sighed, "Abe isn't always going to be there, you know." 

"I know." 

"Then you understand why you can't do that, why you can't-- " 

Daryl suddenly feels angry and scowls, "No! You don't get it, Rick! I had to stay in that fuckin cell for weeks, not knowing whether you were already six feet under or not. It ain't right and he didn't even get in trouble for the riot!" 

Rick bares his teeth, hissing, "Daryl, be quiet." 

"No! He got you stabbed, got others hurt and fuckin killed, some of the guards too. It ain't right." 

Rick stays calm, eyes narrowed but clear as he speaks in a firm but neutral voice. "You need to stay calm, Daryl. Lower your voice." 

After a beat or two of tense silence Daryl sighs, knowing that Rick is right. They can't be too loud unless they want to get caught. 

Eventually Rick coaxes him into coming closer, eyes meeting Daryl's. "I know it's not fair. But there's nothing that you and I can do about it, alright? He's staying here, just like we are. And I doubt he'll try something this soon after a riot." 

"He ain't gonna be trying nothing at all." 

Rick cocks a brow, "What do you mean?" 

Daryl gives a wry smile that doesn't reach his eyes, "I mean, I made friends." 

He looks briefly concerned, "Daryl.. " 

"Don't go worrying, I'm only talking 'bout Axel. He told me he and his group would help us if we needed it." 

The older man frowned, "Axel," He mumbled thoughtfully to himself. 

"You know his group?" 

The ex cop shook his head, "I've only seen them. Never talked to Axel, either." He smiled. "Axel must think of you as a good friend if he's offering his help out to an ex cop." 

Daryl shrugged his shoulders, cheeks flushing at the prospect of Rick mildly teasing him at having a friend. "Shut up," Daryl goes to shove at Rick but thinks better of it, fingers changing to brush lightly over the hospital gown. 

"Can.. Can I see it?" The atmosphere changes and Rick slowly nods after a moment or two. Working together they pull the blankets off of Rick and work the hospital gown upwards until it's crinkled around Rick's armpits. He's still in his boxers but that's it. There's a bandage over one spot in his torso. For a moment Daryl can't help himself from flicking his eyes over the chest. It's lightly muscled, nothing huge but more lean and corded. He has a light dusting of chest hair but it's nothing much and Daryl has the urge to rub his face against it- Quit, he forces himself. 

Rick's fingers go down, pulling at the bandage. "It's just for precaution now. I'm mostly healed, they took out the stitches awhile ago but since I was moving around a lot these past few days they thought it was best just to make sure.. " His words trail off as Daryl's hand comes out but he stops before glancing up at the other. Rick nods his head. 

The Dixon smoothed one finger over the puncture wound. The skin is raised and lightly jagged because the knife that he'd been stabbed with hadn't had a smooth blade. Then, Daryl smoothed his hand upwards and towards a different spot that's near it, above. Scar tissue is clear on this one and he presses his fingers over it.

Rick's breath catches. "From a gunshot," He murmurs. "From work." 

Daryl nods and brushed past it to the other side of Rick's torso where there's other skin that shows scarring. It's a line, running down Rick's side. It's thin, small. 

He looks up and Rick doesn't hesitate, speaking in a whispered voice as if he's scared of his own words. "From when I caught the man and tortured him," Rick looks like a ghost of himself now, mind trapped in a memory. "He had a knife, slashed at me. Caught me a little." 

Daryl doesn't hesitate either, only shakes his head as the words rock through his brain. He knew what Rick was capable of back then, knows what he's capable of now but he doesn't shy away from it. He embraces it, flattening down Rick's hospital gown. 

Rick's looking away now, frowning.

"Hey," Daryl tries. The man doesn't look. "Rick," He tries again and it works this time, startlingly blue eyes glancing at him. 

"No more," The younger one whispered. The words were the same as the ones that he'd spoken on the night where Rick had first opened up to him. "No more, I understand." 

Rick's eyes flash with something unreadable but he visibly relaxes, bringing a hand up to Daryl's face. He nods and his fingers twitch against Daryl's cheek before bringing him in to settle their lips together. 

Daryl's mind slows and turns into a goo filled mess, sludge that won't do anything. His mind won't cooperate. So instead he does something with himself. 

He puts his hands in Rick's curls and he kisses back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooooooo. I'm so happy that I finally got to write that and I'm excited for what more I can write- Though fair warning this story probably only has like. Maybe five chapters left to go, maybe less. I'm still mapping it out. Thank you all for the unbelievable support, give me a comment letting me know what you think or give me a kudos if you liked it. Thanks! :)


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And I'm an old man in prison."

After the kiss not much talking is done. They soaked up every last minute together that they could, trading lazy kisses and gentle touches. Daryl couldn't stay there forever, he knew that but he sure as hell wanted to. 

"You should get going. Abe will want to take you back soon. It'll be better for you to go out to him instead of him walking in on us like this." Rick murmured and Daryl didn't have to ask in what way. He was laying on the edge of the bed on his side with Rick's arm curled around his middle. 

"I don't want to go." 

"I don't want you to go either," The older one huffed out a slight breath that mingled with his amusement at Daryl's near petulant answer. "I'll be back down in the cell soon, you'll see." 

He ignores the words and instead lets his fingers come up to brush through the stubble, "You're gonna have to get this shaved soon." 

A sigh was heard, "Daryl, you need to leave." 

The teen continued to ignore Rick for a moment more, his fingers falling to Rick's chest, fiddling with his hospital gown. 

"If someone sees us-- " 

Daryl cut Rick off with a kiss. It's small and chaste because he still doesn't have complete confidence in his kissing abilities but when he pulls back Rick twines his fingers in Daryl's hair to bring him closer, slotting their mouths together again. Rick deepened the kiss with a low groan, licking into Daryl's mouth before parting again. 

The man shoots Daryl a smile that's nearly.. Boyish, in a way. He's not exactly sure how old Rick is though he estimates somewhere in his thirties but he knows that he's old enough not to be considered boyish. The smile makes him looks years younger and Daryl tries to memorize it and capture it with his mind. 

Daryl finds himself shooting a smile back and he ducks his head in a slight nod, "I'll leave now." Their fingers squeeze and the younger one is gone, slipping out the door and being escorted back to his cell. 

 

\---------------

 

Surprisingly Rick is back in their cell the next morning. Abraham isn't the one who escorts him but Rick tells him once they're alone that it's because Abe took the day off. Daryl doesn't blame the man with how late they'd all stayed up last night. 

It's early morning and Rick is finally out of that hospital gown and once they're left alone they're both stepping together. Closer. Daryl took another step forward but Rick stopped him with a hand on his wrist, firm but still gentle. 

He gave one shake of his head. "We can't, not out here. Not now." 

If they're caught together in a certain way he knows that it won't be good. They'd be split up and the mere thought of that has Daryl wilting and lightly tugging his arm away, understanding showing in his eyes. They give each other nods, standing apart at a respective distance but their eyes are glittering with something that shows more than just friendship. 

 

\---------------

 

Eventually they go down to breakfast. Things are still tense but it's easing up. 

No one notices Rick at first. They just start walking and standing in line together like they usually do. They get their food and they sit down. It's not a surprise when Joe looks over at them. Joe is like a bug that won't leave, buzzing around and bothering everything in it's wake. He's like a bug but more dangerous. They sit and Rick refuses to look in that direction. 

Without hesitation Rick starts shoveling over parts of his breakfast that he doesn't like onto Daryl's tray and taking some of Daryl's food in return. 

The teen huffs, "First thing you do, huh?" 

Rick shrugged with a twitch of the lips. "The food at the hospital wasn't horrible but I've missed switching with you. Gotten used to it." 

He looks up at Daryl and there's a tender, genuine look in his eyes that makes his own heart thump faster. They stare at each other for a moment or two, maybe too long and certainly too caught up in each other because in a matter of seconds they can hear a throat clearing. Both of their heads snap over. 

Axel is standing there and looking like he might piss himself. He's blinking too fast and he's paler than usual, rocking on his feet nervously. Rick cocks his brow and looks to Axel, not saying anything. 

"Axel?" Daryl tries but the blonde isn't looking at him. He's looking at Rick. 

"I.. I just wanted to say here that we-- " Axel sent a look back towards the table that he came from. There are a few men looking back at him, one in particular looking a bit annoyed but amused at the same time. He's a big fellow, huge and Daryl tries to come with his name. Olly? Oliver? Oscar? Oscar, that's it. 

The man sighed, wringing his hands. "We're friends with Daryl and I ain't known you much but I know that the hole in your side," He cut himself off again with a shake of his head. "It ain't right and we wanted to say it's good seeing you back." 

There's silence after that as Daryl muffles a half smile and Rick looks confused. Axel then thrust his hand forward, wanting a hand shake. 

Daryl peeked back and the man, Oscar, who looked partially mortified at what his friend was doing. Rick was still looking completely confused and befuddled but he held his hand out for the handshake that Axel returned in full force, making the hand shake look comical and like something you might see on TV. 

"... Thanks Axel," Comes Rick's wary, hesitant reply and in another shake or two Axel is gone. 

Rick's staring down at his hand like it's another being, detached from his body and Daryl snickers. "You made friends," He speaks in disbelief. 

The Dixon nodded his head, "I made friends."

 

\---------------

 

When night comes both of them are restless. It's been a long day. They should be sleeping. But yet.. It never comes. 

Daryl can hear Rick tossing and turning and he's sure the other man can hear him as well. Eventually he sighed and looked down and over the side of his bunk, glancing down at Rick. Sure enough the man is wide awake and looking mildly frustrated. 

Their eyes meet and they stare at one another for a moment or two. Daryl's eyes flicker to look at Rick's bunk and then back to his eyes several times in a silent question before a slight curl of a smile comes to Rick's face and the ex cop nods. 

It must be somewhere in the early morning hours, possibly one in the morning or two but still he's careful and quiet as he makes his way to the bottom bunk. Rick's on his side and near the wall and Daryl gets on his side to face the other. 

"It hurt?" He asked, brushing his fingers over the scar that he knows is hidden. 

The other shook his head, "No." He sighed, "Not much, at least. I'm allowed to go down for medical attention if I need it but I don't think it'll get to that point." 

Daryl's fingers continue to brush over the clothed spot, concentrating as he softly traces over the area. He glances up to see Rick gazing down at him. No sooner and they're kissing. 

It starts off small just like it always does. Fingers wind in his hair and he settled his hand on the older mans side. They grow more daring, tongues delving out and swallowing down moans that want to come up. 

Their bodies are pressed close Daryl pushed his body more firmly against the other's. Rick lets himself fall on his back and his hands are coaxing Daryl closer and onto his lap. The teen feels his cheeks warm at the position but he doesn't stop. Instead before he knows that he's doing his hips are grinding down and warmth is spreading through his body. 

Immediately he pulls back, face horrified. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," He didn't want to cross a line but Rick is only warmly chuckling at him, worn hands at his hips. 

"Hey," he murmured. "It's alright, nothing to get worked up about." 

They kiss for another moment or two before the mans hands press at his hips, guiding them downward again in a rhythm as Rick rolls his hips up with a shaky breath. Daryl feels like he can't breathe with pleasure shooting up through his core. He presses down again, forcing Rick's rhythm to speed up as he becomes more desperate for friction. His lips are just brushing Rick's at this point, letting out a strangled whimper when he feels himself losing control. 

Rick presses his hands against the younger one's hips, forcing him to slow. "Can't." The man gets out as if it pains him. 

Rejection stings at Daryl in waves. "Why not?" He asked, jaw already tightening. 

The ex cop sighed, "It's not that, Daryl. You know it's not." 

"Then what is it?" 

Rick gets him to lay back on his side, both in their original position and pointedly ignoring the tents in their pants. The man reaches out, laying a hand on his cheek and his thumb brushes against his skin. 

"You're getting out soon, you know that? Your year is almost up." 

Daryl looks at the other, eyes hard but wavering. He doesn't want to hear it. 

"But me? I've got.. Years ahead of me. Maybe not as many as you think but that's still years. Years that I'm going to be in here and you're going to be out there." 

"Rick-" 

"No, let me finish. I'm glad that you're leaving, I'm damn happy. And I want you to go out there, and I want you to live your life. And if you find someone? I want you to be with them." 

Something ugly coils in his gut. "I don't want no one else," He grits out. 

"You don't know that, Daryl. I've been selfish, letting this happen. And I'll continue to be selfish for as long as I have you." Rick smiles but it's this sad, shaky thing. "You're so much more than what you think you are, Daryl." He whispers. "And I'm an old man in prison. And I'll continue to care about you long after you leave here. If you're still waiting for me when I get out? Then we'll be together again but I don't want you to hold back on your future." 

Daryl hates the small speech and he pressed his face against Rick's chest. "I'm not leaving you even when I have to leave here." 

The other makes a small noise and wraps Daryl in his arms.

"And you ain't old, you bastard." Rick's quiet chuckles follow him into his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the count down begin! Only four more chapters to go and then this baby is done. Again, thank you /soo/ much for the support. Leave a comment letting me know what you think or drop a kudos if you liked! :)


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I wish I could've made you hurt,' his mind whispers.

Time passes and Daryl becomes more aware that their time is slipping. He realizes that he doesn't have much time here, especially not compared to Rick who will be here for years to come. The man still won't tell him how long his sentence is but he doesn't push. It doesn't matter, he tells himself. He'll still be there. Waiting for Rick. He'd never thought before that he'd be so hesitant to leave such a place. His life is uncertain at best and Rick is the calming factor in all of it. Knowing that he won't have that anymore makes his heart clench. 

Things just won't be the same if Rick Grimes isn't in his life.

 

\---------------

 

At this point Daryl had forgotten about his brother. He's a distant thought in his mind. The man didn't come on the first visiting day that they had after the riot. He wasn't exactly surprised but he hid his hurt. Weeks later and Abe comes to tell him that a man is there to see him, his brother. It makes Daryl stiffen as he glares questionably up at the ginger but in the end he goes. 

Merle is waiting for him at one of the tables, hair buzzed as always and looking a bit more than anxious. When he spots Daryl he grins wide as if nothing has changed. Daryl doesn't smile back as he comes to sit down. 

"Well, will ya look at'cha," He clicks his tongue, eyes flickering over Daryl. "Stone cold, baby brother. Looks like prison done changed you." 

He doesn't say a word and Merle soon sighs, rubbing a hand over his buzzed hair. "Heard 'bout the riot." 

"You didn't come." 

Merle frowns in confusion. 

"The visiting times after. You missed it." That gets silence to settle over the both of them and Merle has a slightly guilty look in his eyes but he soon huffs like a mad dog. 

"Had shit to do, Darlina. 'Sides, I knew if you was dead the guards would'a called me." 

Daryl snorted bitterly, "What, were you getting coked out of your mind again?" 

Merle pulls a face, glancing around as if the officers might arrest him on the spot. "I'll have you know I ain't touched that shit in months." 

"New record for ya, then. What the fuck are you here for?" He can tell his older brother's getting mad but he find it in himself to care. 

"Why the hell are you acting like a little punk ass bitch, huh? All 'cause of this? You're forgetting, I know exactly how it feels to be inside of here. I know exactly how it is to be caged up." 

Daryl hisses, "If you know then why the fuck did you leave me in here?" 

That stuns his brother into silence and they only stare at each other for awhile, icy blue eyes not willing to budge until Merle finally caves. He stands up, slapping Daryl's cheek in a patronizing manner and tosses words over his shoulder as he leaves. 

"I've got a place for us. Gonna pick you up when they let you out. We're gonna be living real nice, little brother." 

 

\---------------

 

In the end it isn't enough. Joe gets transported and it isn't enough. It feels almost anticlimactic to him. 

He wants more. He wants to kill the man himself, wants to feel his fists against the older mans face. Sometimes the violent urges scare himself but when he thinks back to Rick laying on the floor and pouring out blood.. Well, all of that goes away. 

Joe had gotten one too many strikes, one too many offences on his part and Daryl assumes that some of the other prisoners must have snitched on who was really behind the riot and soon enough Joe's carted off to a higher security prison. They all watch as the animal is put into cuffs and taken from their cell block. 

Daryl blinks, watching. 'I wish I could've made you hurt,' his mind whispers. 

Rick is the one who comes up behind him, fingertips trailing down his arm with a shake of his head. "He's gone now. It doesn't matter in what way. It only matters that he's gone."

 

\---------------

 

They both savor their time together. They know it's coming to an end. They're as discreet as they can be and in public they never do anything above friendly. 

No one suspects a thing. Except perhaps Abe and maybe even Axel but neither of the men say anything if they think they know what's going on. Even inside of their cell they're careful. They don't dare to let their affections change until late at night when the morning hours are just starting up. When everyone is asleep. 

It's Daryl crawling on top of him and fisting hands in his curls. It's Rick rolling them over and grinding desperately between Daryl's legs, swallowing up the teens whimpers. Of course Rick never lets it go far. He always pulls back before they get too lost in their desire, like now. 

They're both in Rick's bunk, both on their backs but Daryl is slightly slumped on the older one because of the small size of the mattress. 

"You're an asshole," Daryl speaks this with a tinge of fondness in his tone. 

"You know, I think you've said that to me before." 

He feels like sweaty and flushed and he probably looks like a tomato by this point. The thought mortifies him. 

He turns onto his side, trying not to let his hard on brush against Rick's leg. "Ain't gonna be able to do this once I leave," He murmurs. 

He doesn't mean specifically kissing but just being together, intertwined, close to one another. They won't have it anymore. 

Rick looks down and frowns, letting a hand reach over to caress Daryl's face. "That doesn't mean we have to rush this." 

His thumb smoothed over Daryl's bottom lip and he leaned in to kiss the other in a sweeter way this time. "I'll still be yours in acouple years." 

The teen nearly makes a pained noise because he doesn't want to think about that. 

Then Rick sighs, looking at Daryl. "I don't want.. Us, to be tainted by this. When we happen, it's not going to be in a place where we're not free." It sounds like a promise and Daryl holds that tight to his chest before reluctantly returning back to his own bunk.

 

\---------------

 

The night before he leaves Rick has a nightmare. 

It hasn't happened for awhile now. Occasionally it does but usually Daryl's there to shake it out of him and for the most part Daryl lays down there in his bunk until they both are needing sleep, ready to slip off with softer thoughts in their minds. 

He remembers back onto the times with Joe where Rick was on edge, not able to sleep and when he did he'd spring up with gasps. He remembers the very beginning when he'd only just met Rick, horrid thoughts following the man into his sleep. His nightmares usually happen when he's stressed, Daryl noticed. 

Maybe it's a coincidence that it happens the night before he leaves, maybe it's not. 

Daryl can hear the half strangled noises coming from the bunk below him and he's quick to hop down and shake the man awake. Strong hands grip his arms hard enough to bruise, Rick's eyes popping wide open with terror in them. 

"Rick," He murmurs, emotion tight in his throat. He can only think about Rick alone in here, tortured by his dreams and no one being there to help him. It's a horrible thought and he doesn't know why it effects him so much, eyes becoming blurry. 

"Rick," He rasps out again and the man before him is heaving in deep breaths, shocked eyes landing on Daryl. 

"I-- I can't go, I -- " It's ridiculous because of course he wants to go but the thought of Rick being here alone, without him, scares him. 

Suddenly Rick is pulling him closer, tight against his chest with a hand in his hair. Daryl's head is shaking and so are Rick's hands. 

"You're leaving," The ex cop whispers. "You're leaving." His voice is firm. It's final.

 

\---------------

 

The next day his bag is packed and the guard is watching impatiently, telling him to hurry it up. 

Daryl's staring at Rick. They can't show their affection, they can't kiss like they want to so they just stare. Their eyes don't want to leave each others. 

Rick gives a smile but it's another one of those sad, small things. "I'll see you around, Dixon." 

Daryl's throat feels tight again but he forces his head into a jerky nod. "See you around, Grimes." 

Merle is waiting for him outside. 

Daryl feels nearly numb once he's out of the complex. He should be happy, shouldn't he? He should be screaming with joy and jumping around. 

The wind feels good on his face on the warm day and he tilts his head up towards the sun, smiling just a little as he takes his first steps of freedom out towards Merle's beat up truck. His brother is whooping and comes over, throwing an arm around him. 

"C'mon, baby brother. It's time to get you home." 

It's a bittersweet thing as he gets in Merle's truck and watches the prison fade from the rear view mirrors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three more chapters to go! Your guys' support means so much to me. Leave a comment down below to let me know what you think of the chapter or drop a kudos if you liked it. Thanks all! :)


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You asking me to move in, Dixon?"

The first night Daryl can't sleep. 

His brother had taken him out for drinks at a bar. He wasn't of age to drink but it was the type of place that never really cared. There was a whiskey in front of him but he didn't take a sip from it at first. His finger tips nudged at it, staring at the amber colored liquid while Merle hollered and laughed with his friends. 

"This one right here.. This is for my baby brother. Darlina! It's damn good to have you back, and let's hope you never have to cover for good ol' Merle's ass again!" Merle was drunk at this point, laughing with the others as they raised their shots and threw them back. 

Daryl doesn't say a word. He takes a sip of his whiskey and then leaves for a smoke. 

That night they got back to the house. Or rather, Merle's house which looks a bit like a shack. The place is tucked away in the woods and smells heavily of weed. It's got one bedroom, one bathroom and the rest of the house is basically one room. A room with a fridge, sink, table and couch in it. 

The teen makes his way over to the couch and lays down, staring at the ceiling. He can hear Merle and the floozy that he got from the bar. Moaning, groaning, a head board hitting the wall. It would make him curl his lip in disgust but he hadn't expected any different. 

He thinks about Rick and wonders if he's laying down, too. If he's asleep. A horrible image of Rick comes to his mind and he can see it. He can see Rick struggling with a nightmare, clawing at his sheets and groaning in a terrifying way. He can see the man waking up all alone with Daryl's name on his lips. 

Daryl's eyes get blurry and so he shuts them, tossing and turning for the rest of the night.

 

\---------------

 

The next day Daryl goes out, creeping out of the shack. He can hear Merle snoring away in the back bedroom and soon enough he's out. He borrows his brothers truck and leaves, uncaring of the consequences that might follow. 

He's gotten more than just a taste of the prison life and he doesn't like it but he knows that if he sticks around the shack he'll end up right back there. He needs a job. He needs a place. 

The Dixon picks up three different applications. One for a grocery store, one for a diner and one for a landscaping company. His eyes are set on the landscaping company. He wants it so bad that he can practically taste it. It would put him at ease with the familiarity of it, picking at weeds, spreading mulch. He'd be outside. It would nearly be like working in the fields again.

In the end the diner is the one that hires him. 

The landscaping company is owned by people living in the town, one that's well established and has enough workers. That's what the man who owns it tells him. He's kind about it, explaining that they can't take any one else onto their company but that they'd keep his application with them. 

The grocery store never calls him back but Daryl understands why. He's got a criminal record now, he hadn't expected it to be easy to find a job. A week later he's hired by the diner. It's a shitty little place that local drunks stumble into at one in the morning because they're still open and Daryl's in the back, cooking. He flips burgers and hates his life just a little bit more each time he hears the sizzle of a patty on a grill. 

Money's money, he tells himself and he works. 

 

\---------------

 

The teen visits Rick as much as he can. 

Their visits are always stilted in a way. It's clear that they both want more. They both want to lean over and hug each other, want to tell each other every detail in their life and trade kisses. They hold their wants back and settle for conversations that drift off and end with them just staring at each other, feet nudging together under the table like they're a pair of love sick kids. 

Daryl comes on every visitation day. It hurts.

Sometimes Rick is in good spirits but he watches as the months pass and can see that the gaunt look overcoming Rick's features. The way that the man looks like a mere ghost of himself. It's three months into visiting him when he has enough. 

"You gotta cut this shit out." He won't look at Rick and glares down at the table. Rick merely raises a brow, looking for an explanation. 

"Don't gimme that shit. You know damn well what I'm talking about." Daryl looks up, a pained look on his face. "What, you think I don't see this? You? You look like a fuckin' skeleton, you're wasting away and you ain't allowed to do that." 

The older man looks surprised, nearly. "Daryl," He starts out. 

"No, fuck that. This ain't about you anymore. You got people out here waiting on you. Don't you get that? You don't get to let yourself go, not when you got people out here counting on you being whole when you get out." His voice had been a bit louder than necessary and one of the guards is looking at them but Daryl can't stop the anger flowing through him. 

"I'm sorry," Rick finally speaks with a sigh. 

The teen growls, "Yeah, you damn well should be." He scowls but softens after a moment or two. "I need you to get out, okay? I'm gonna have a place when you're out. And I'm gonna be waiting on you." 

Ricks gets a small smile onto his face, "You asking me to move in, Dixon?" 

"Ain't asking. I'm telling." 

The ex cop smiles a bit wider at that, looking like himself for once and reaches out, nudging their finger tips together before quickly drawing his hand back. Daryl's cheeks burn, half from the innocent affection and half because he realized that he'd just told Rick to move in with him.

 

\---------------

 

It's four months after he's released from prison when he talks to Shane Walsh for the first time. 

They run into each other a lot on account of both going to visitation days but for the most part they only nod at each other and that's the extent of their communication. That changes. 

The teen walks out of the prison to find that Shane is there, leaning against his jeep which is parked next to Daryl's motorcycle. It's a bit old and needs some work but Daryl doesn't mind fixing her up. She runs fine and that's what matters the most. 

"That your bike?" Shane nods to it, arms crossed over his chest. 

Daryl frowns, not quite understanding why the man is talking to him but he nods his head. 

"I'm heading to a bar. Follow me." With that the police officer gets in his jeep and starts it up. 

Part of him doesn't want to listen but another part senses that this might be important so he gets on his bike and follows. They go to a bar that's not too far away and it's clear that Shane's familiar with the place. 

He goes up and orders himself a beer, almost two before looking back at Daryl and narrows his eyes. "Never mind, just make that one beer. Forgot I had a kid with me." 

The bartender looks at Daryl, frown on her face. "A kid? You know I don't let-- " 

Shane smiles, "Don't you worry now. I'll keep an eye on the pipsqueak. He's nineteen." 

The woman huffs but gives Shane his beer and the man gives a charming smile in return. "Thanks, doll." 

They take their seats at the bar and sit in silence for several minutes. 

Daryl's quietly fuming about the pipsqueak comments and so he snaps, "Was there a purpose in me coming here?" He asked, glaring at Rick's friend. 

Shane doesn't seem surprised at the snap and only takes a long sip of his beer. "Wanted to get to know you better is all." 

"Why?" 

"'Cause the way you an' Rick look at each other makes me wanna vomit. I can't even make any damn jailbait jokes 'bout you because he's already in jail." 

Daryl bristles but soon Shane laughs, "Don't go worrying. I ain't saying I'm against it, I'm only saying." He takes another sip of his beer. "You two seem close, wanna make sure you know what you're getting into. Wanna make sure you ain't gonna forget about him." 

Daryl's lip curls, "What, like you did?" He remembers Rick telling him about the times where Shane had just stopped visiting for awhile. 

Shane winces and his voice goes quiet, "Yeah, like I did." 

The night drifts on and to his surprise Abraham appears. 

Daryl blinks in surprise, staring. 

"Shit, is that you, Dixon?" The man grins and looks to Shane. "I didn't think you'd have any luck with getting him to actually come." 

Shane shrugs, "I got my ways." 

"Yeah, like just telling me and driving off." Daryl rolls his eyes but can't keep the confusion out of them. "How do you two know each other?" 

That gets Shane to smile. "Well, see here. This ol' bastard used to go to school with me and Rick. We were all three on the football team-- " 

"A damn good football team at that." 

"Yeah, we were pretty good," Shane murmurs wistfully before going on. "But that's beside the point. We kept in touch after high school, all three of us. Similar careers an' all." 

Not anymore, Daryl thinks but it seems as though the other two men thought the same thing, knowing that Rick wouldn't ever be able to get back into that line of work. 

They all sober for a moment and stay quiet, lost in their thoughts before Abe starts up the chatter, complaining about his lady. Shane eagerly jumps onto that train of thought and the two stay there, complaining about their women for the whole night while Daryl stays quiet but enjoys the conversation until they all disperse when it nears midnight. 

 

\---------------

 

It's a little over a year when Daryl finally gets his own place. 

Merle doesn't approve of the idea and calls his brother all sorts of names but Daryl's getting sick of having the smell of weed on his clothes and watching his older brother getting drunk every night. At least weed is the only drug that Merle seems to be getting into lately but Daryl feels the need to distance himself, even if he still does let his brother borrow money when he needs. 

He's working steadily at the diner now, even if he hates the damn place but it's enough to buy his own apartment after he's saved up enough money. It's nothing special but it's enough. One bedroom, one bath. A nice little kitchen and living room with a fire escape. 

He finds himself wondering how Rick will like it when he gets here. He smiles a little to himself and makes sure there's a small shelf in the bedroom, one to place books in. 

 

\---------------

 

Daryl starts job hunting again, thinking of the diner as his own personal hell. 

He reapplies to the landscaping place and learns a bit more about them. They're a small business but they do more than just landscape and a bit more of smaller construction projects as well. Nearly everyone in their small town uses them. 

He's gone through other applications for grocery stores and places like that but no one gives him a second glance because his record. It makes him angry, makes him want to yell that he wasn't the one who'd done it but he knows that won't do any good and so he bites his tongue and gets on with his life. 

Somehow, miraculously, he lands an interview at the landscaping place. The man who gives the interview is nice, burly looking but kind. Tyreese is his name. 

"How many days a week can you work?" 

"Everyday," Daryl is quick to answer. 

"What kind of experience do you have with working outside and helping with construction?" 

That makes the young man pause, unsure of how to go about this. He'd marked on the application that he'd gone to jail but this.. This would be highlighting it. 

He cringed, looking at his jeans. "Work 'round the house, know how to fix things inside and out well enough. And.. While I was doing time I worked out in the fields a lot." He doesn't want to look at the man for a moment or two, waiting for the words of 'get out of the office' or 'this interview is over.' 

Tyreese presses his lips together before giving a cautious smile. "You can look up at me, Daryl." Daryl does. "I know what you got in for, I read what you put on the application but I'm going to take a chance on you." 

Daryl blinks, "Why?" 

This time Tyreese smiles wider. "You seem like the type of man I wouldn't mind having around here." 

They shake hands and Daryl, still dumbfounded, stands up to leave but Tyreese stops him before he goes. "And Daryl?" The younger one turns. "You've got more friends than what you think." The statement confuses him but he leaves anyways. 

It's two more weeks before he figures out that Shane had stopped in and put a good word in for him after hearing from Daryl that he was trying to apply there. 

 

\---------------

 

It gets hard. 

He quits his job at the diner and enjoys his job at the landscaping company. It's hard work but nothing he can't handle. No, the hard part about it is that his time is dwindling. He works full time and hardly has room for anything else in his life. 

The first time that he misses a visitation day he nearly cries out of his guilt. Not that he tells anyone that. He goes to the next one with worried eyes, sitting down in front of Rick with a hint of clumsiness. 

"Rick," He breathed out. "I didn't mean to miss it, I didn't- I just got caught up, and I- " Rick's smiling and it makes him stop in short of what he had been going to say. "The fuck are you smiling at?" 

The man shakes his head, still smiling. "Shane told me you got a job working for Tyreese. I'm happy for ya. Real happy." 

The younger one stares, shaking his head. "That's not what this is about, I missed visitation day." 

Rick speaks again, cutting him off. "You have a life outside of visiting me. That's what I wanted, that's what you're doing. And I'm happy for you." 

He huffs and stares at the older man but relaxes eventually and they get on with talking.

 

\---------------

 

It gets tiring. Going to the prison. He hates the place and he hates himself even more when he finds himself reluctant to go. 

It's not about Rick. It's about wanting Rick here with him instead of having to go to the prison. He wants to see Rick but he doesn't want to see anything else. 

It gets even more hard. There's a period where it nearly breaks them both. Rick telling him to quit coming, Daryl drowning his sorrows in alcohol and ignoring a few visitation days. Things feel like they might crumble under his feet.

Tyreese pulls him together one day, tells him that he can't do this anymore. That he's a good worker but if he shows up to work drunk, then he'll fire him. All that he's worked for.. It could be gone so easily. 

He looks in the mirror that night, facial hair fuzzy and patchy. Bloodshot eyes. Mean face, too mean for a now twenty year old. He sees Merle in the mirror when he looks at himself and he's scared stiff. 

Daryl makes things right. He apologizes to his boss and never does show up to work drunk again and Rick.. Well, that takes a bit more mending. It feels stilted again but they spend their visits together, both understanding that Daryl can't come to every single visitation day and that it's okay to not want to come sometimes. He has a life. And that's okay. That's what Rick tells him. 

Their finger tips nudge together at the end of the visit and Daryl knows that things will be okay. They have to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters to go! Hope that you all liked it. Still a bit on the angsty side but we've got two more chapters to go. Share your thoughts and leave a comment or a kudos if you liked it. Thanks all! :)


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wondered how the man could smile so brightly with such tragedy in his life.

Daryl is nearly twenty three when Rick gets out of prison. 

It hadn't been easy. He wondered how Shane had kept it on for as long as he had but every time that he walked into that building and saw Rick's face it was worth it. Rick's blue eyes always seemed to be a little bit brighter when Daryl came around. 

Daryl always tried to work answers out of Rick about how things were here, if anyone was giving him trouble. The man never answered. He always switched subjects, seeming to want to know more about what was happening in Daryl's life and not the other way around. 

However one day as he was leaving he saw Axel visiting with someone and his old friend smiled and nodded at him, gaze slipping to Rick before nodding again. And just like that Daryl knew that everything was okay, that Axel had kept his word about looking out for Rick. 

The now young man gives a nod and smiles back before leaving the building. 

 

\---------------

 

"You sure you want him living with you?" 

They're back at the bar and now Daryl can actually order a drink, scowling over at Shane. It's become a bit of a tradition even if Abe can't always come with them because of his odd hours at the prison. 

When Rick found out that they were steadily hanging out with each other the ex cop had looked at them like they'd grown a second head or were trying to convince him that aliens existed. 

"Why wouldn't I?"

Shane rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. "Look, I know you guys are still head over heels for each other and shit like that-- " 

"Shane," He growled, glaring over as his cheeks flushed. 

The older man snorted, "Man, you can't even hide it. Hush on up and let me finish." 

Daryl's used to this by now, Shane talking and babbling and there's absolutely no way to stop the other so he just sighed into his beer and nodded his head for the other to go on. 

"All I'm wondering is how much you two have actually talked about moving in together, seeing as your visits are mostly spent staring into each other's eyes." Shane pulls a face and so the younger one kicks his foot out, hitting the man in the shin and smirks when Shane yelps. 

"Lived with him for a year, ain't gonna be any different now." 

Though he'll admit that he's been concerned about that. What if it is different? It's been nearly four years since they've lived in the same space. 

Shane seems to see his doubt and claps a heavy hand on his shoulder, "You know I'll help move his stuff in when he's out." 

He then gets up and Daryl doesn't have to ask where he's going. Sure enough Shane goes off to flirt with a blonde on the other side of the bar and Daryl stays put, drowning his thoughts in his beer.

 

\---------------

 

Shane: Picking up Rick in the morning. I'll bring him back around seven. Gonna pack up some of his shit and catch up.

Daryl: Okay, thanks.

It sounded so simple in theory but yet the texts left him jittery, mind filled with thoughts about Rick.

 

\---------------

 

The day that Rick gets out Daryl has to work. Usually he would just call off but he's doing a landscaping project for the old Greene house and he can't flip out on it now, especially when Shane assured him that he could handle picking Rick up. 

He knows that Herschel is too old to move around much anymore but the old man would try his best to help if they didn't complete the job today and Maggie had been itching to get this done for weeks. 

He'd gotten close to the Greene family even though he'd resisted it at first. Beth Greene was a girl in a diner that had met him first, all smiles and kind eyes. Then he'd met the rest of the Greene family on a smaller job months back, planting flowers and weeding the area around the house. Maggie had brought him a glass of lemonade, Beth had brought him a cookie and Herschel had chatted his ear off. 

He'd learned that the farm had been around for awhile, stocked with horses, cows and chicken though Herschel was getting old and he was unable to work the land or help with the animals as he had before. That left it to Maggie Greene. He could tell that the girl was struggling but she was the only helper left other than Beth. 

Daryl learned that they'd had a son named Shawn that had died in a car accident, two wives that were already dead and gone and a man by the name of Otis had died of a heart attack. 

He wondered how the man could smile so brightly with such tragedy in his life. 

 

\---------------

 

When Daryl gets home the lights are all off. He glances down at his phone. Six thirty. Shane wouldn't be coming with Rick until seven. 

The young man pushed into his apartment and got inside, shutting the door behind him and flicking the lights on. He tossed his phone to the side and it plopped down with his phone and wallet as well as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. 

He went over to the kitchen sink and dipped his head down, drinking up some water eagerly in hopes to cool down his body. He'd sweat through his shirt and he leaned back against the counter once he was finished, frowning at a bag near his couch. More than just a bag, actually. There was two bags. Some boxes, even. 

"Long day?" 

Daryl jerked around, eyes going wide. Water droplets rolled down his bottom lip and over his chin but he can't wipe them away because he's busy staring. Rick is standing there and it baffles him, blinking owlishly. 

This is the first time that he's seen Rick out of his usual orange prison clothes. The man's wearing dark jeans and a button up plaid shirt with cowboy boots on his feet. 

"Shane.. He said.. " 

Rick smiled, "Thought I'd stop by early. Check the place out." 

It sounded so casual, as if Rick had just been around and had stopped by on a whim. 

Daryl grinned before launching himself at Rick. They tumble against the wall, squeezing tight at each other even when they slide to the floor. 

 

\---------------

 

Rick doesn't kiss him. He doesn't touch him. He doesn't do anything of the sort and it's driving Daryl crazy. 

A part of him knew that things wouldn't just snap back to the way it was, it couldn't. Too much time had passed. But he wished for something more than a hug, than Rick walking around him as if on eggshells. 

It's a week later that he finally snaps. 

Rick's been sleeping on the couch, shifting away from touches and not engaging in anything that could be considered more than friendly. 

"Is it something that I did?" Daryl finally asks. They're on the couch and sitting a far distance away from each other. 

Rick glances up from several applications that he's gathered, looking over. "Excuse me?" He asks, seeming to be genuinely confused. 

The young man feels bared, vulnerable. "If you don't want this, if you're gonna keep on going like this you gotta tell me." He grits his teeth, looking away. 

"Daryl.. " 

"Don't," Daryl struggles to get out, thinking that this is all so unfair. He has the man back. But it's not the same. 

"Why won't you-- Why didn't you-- " A pained noise comes from his mouth and he gets off the couch, walking away but Rick soon gets up and turns him around, hand on his wrist. 

"C'mere," The older one gets out, hand slipping against Daryl's jaw to get him to look at him as they step closer. 

"What? Now you'll touch me? Huh?" Daryl can't stop the anger twisting his insides up. "What the fuck do you want from me?" 

Rick holds him in place, "Hell, Daryl. Just wait a second, I didn't want to assume. I didn't know if you'd still want this. You'd be a fool if you did." 

"I invited you to live here, didn't I? I waited, Rick, I fucking waited and you won't even- " 

Lips seal against his and Daryl's words die in his mouth. 

He knows that he should shove Rick away but he can't. Not when they're kissing, his hands buried deep in Rick's curls while the man has his hands tight on his hips. They find their way to the wall and Rick pushes him against it, moans when Daryl bucks his hips against Rick's. 

Soon he's pulling away and speaking in broken off sentences that are more babbles than anything, "Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't-- You and Shane, you were always going out to bars and I couldn't help but thinking of people there and you, and you with those people. I just kept thinking about it and I didn't know and it's been almost four years-- " 

Doubt, he thinks to himself. Doubt had squirmed it's way into Rick's mind. 

Daryl huffs out a laugh and lets his head rest against the wall. "There ain't been anyone but you. Now shut up and kiss me, you idiot." 

Rick smiles wide and does.

 

\---------------

 

They end up kissing against the wall, Rick hoisting Daryl up for the younger one to wrap his legs around his waist. The apartment is dark, full of moans when Rick bites at his neck and carries him back towards the bedroom, hands on his ass. 

They shed their clothes and Rick finds himself sitting against the head board, a naked Daryl in his lap. He doesn't think he deserves this, this person that's with him and sharing something so intimate but he can't let the other go. Daryl's grinding down against his cock and Rick is losing his mind, hands urging his hips to move faster and faster. 

Their lips push together in sloppy kisses, tongues thrusting and exploring before the man pushes Daryl over to lay on his back and settles in between the younger one's legs. 

"Christ," The older one struggled to get out, rutting in between his legs. 

The minutes pass like that, mindless and messy as they kiss and push each other closer and closer to the edge with every grind of their hips. They're both frantic, desperate. They're both far too pent up for this to last long.

Daryl was flushed pink nearly all the way down to his chest, lips equally pink and bitten at. "Rick," He whines. "Rick, please." 

Rick groans and buries his face against Daryl's neck, one hand bringing their cocks together as he strokes. "So perfect, so perfect for me. Mine now-- " 

Daryl whimpered, back arching as he came all over Rick's hand and their stomachs. 

"Never gonna leave, never," The words are whispered, sincere and heated as he followed the other off the edge just moments after Daryl, crying out as he did so. 

The two of them collapsed on one another, holding each other close. Eventually Rick picked up a spare shirt from the ground and wiped them off before they fell asleep with their arms wrapped around each other. 

For the first time in almost four years they both slept peacefully and with smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this one was a bit harder to write so I'm sorry if it came off a bit wonky or something. Anyways, drop a comment and let me know what you thought or give a kudos if you enjoyed it. Thanks all!
> 
> Also... ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt familiar.

Daryl woke up to bruises on his skin. 

His eyes fluttered open and he stretched in bed, making various noises. Beside him he heard a huff and an arm tightened around him, bringing him closer. It all falls together in his mind, fitting perfectly. He turned in the arms and smiled slightly, seeing a still half asleep Rick. The man's hair is ruffled from the pillow and his stubble is overtaking his face but Daryl doesn't think that he's ever seen anyone else so perfect. 

Rick moved closer and pressed a kiss to his neck, his teeth peaking out to nip at the skin. Daryl hissed. 

"Sorry," The man said sheepishly, lips smoothing over the bruise that he'd sucked there yesterday while they'd been pressed up against the wall. 

Together they point out each other's bruises and hicky's and start laughing because they certainly aren't teenagers anymore, especially not Rick but they can't seem to keep their hands off of each other. 

At one point Rick pins him to the bed and starts kissing down his neck, hoping to entice him to stay. "Quit it, I got shit to do." 

"Push it off till later," Rick's teeth scraped against his abdomen and his stomach muscles twitched in response. 

"Rick," Daryl warned. 

"Hm?" The man dipped down further and sucked a mean mark into the hallow of his hip. 

Daryl barely made it to work on time that morning but he supposed that he didn't mind these types of bruises.

 

\---------------

 

Eventually Shane really does take Rick to that baseball game that he'd promised. The friend had already taken Rick out for drinks with him and Abe but this is more important. This had been a tradition for them at one time. 

Shane buys both tickets even if Rick does grumble about it. The man still hadn't managed to snag a job. He'd gone to a few interviews but none of them had gone anywhere. As soon as Rick explained that he'd gone to prison for assault charges the employer's faces had tightened and a fake smile had been plastered on for show. 

The two friends sit on plastic, hard seats but there's smiles on their faces. Shanes' is large and lopsided as usual and Ricks smile is more understated and subtle. Years ago they had sat in this stadium together and they'd poked fun at one another, teasing about how Shane couldn't keep a woman for more than a month and of how Rick was whipped with his own. Now they're silent, eyes watching the game carefully. 

"You could'a brought the kid." Shane spoke after awhile. 

Rick bristled, "Don't call him that." 

The other snorted, "What, I ain't allowed to make jokes 'bout how much younger he is? I wouldn't be me if I didn't. You're too easy to get a rise out'a."

That get's Rick to lighten. "No, I guess you wouldn't. And he's working. Can't say I can blame for not wanting to take the day off. We're not exactly swimming in money." 

"How many job interviews is this gonna make?" 

Rick frowned, thinking in his head. "I'd say.. Seven?" 

"Where for?" 

"It's down at the Greene farm, being a farm hand." 

Shane grinned, "Farmer Rick, huh?" 

A small smile crept onto his face as well, "Farmer Rick," He echoed. 

 

\---------------

 

The beep of the microwave sounded out into the apartment and Daryl snatched up his TV dinner from inside, hissing when his finger tips touched the hot plastic. He carried it like that, hissing and swearing up a storm. 

"You know, you're supposed to let it set and cool down before you try and hold it." 

Daryl frowned, "Fuck you, Grimes." 

The man's smile twitched, "Maybe later." 

The younger one gaped at him, blinking as Rick simply stood up from the couch and took the hot container from Daryl's hands to place it on the cheap wooden coffee table in front of the couch. 

They both had microwavable meals, complete with a dessert and everything. Daryl's was chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and a brownie while Ricks meal was turkey, mashed potatoes, corn and a brownie. They both studied their meals for a moment before looking at each other and back to their food. In a matter of minutes they'd shoveled the green beans onto Ricks plate and the corn onto Daryl's. 

It felt familiar.

 

\---------------

 

Daryl was woken up at three in the morning on the anniversary of Lori and Carl Grimes' death. 

It'd happened by chance, Daryl rolling over on the bed and waking from not feeling Rick beside him. He pushed himself up, frowning at the clock. He sighed at the time and wondered why Rick was absent from the bed. 

He eventually found him out on the fire escape. It was a chilly night, breezy and Rick was standing there in his boxers and a t-shirt, staring at the street. 

"Rick?" 

The man didn't answer. 

"Rick?" He repeated. "The hell are you doing out here? Shit, do you know what time it is?" He finally went up to the man and touched at his back, fingertips sliding over the tense body and Rick turned sharply, eyes blood shot and red rimmed. 

"Shit," Daryl breathed out. "Rick.. " 

"I'm sorry," Came a murmur. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I'll be there in a minute." Daryl didn't move and it made the older one sigh, one hand coming up to rub over his face. "I mean it, Daryl. Go back inside, I'm alright. I just needed some air." 

"You and I both know I ain't buying that." 

It took Daryl nearly twenty minutes to coax Rick back inside and then nearly another twenty until the other finally whispered out that this was the anniversary of Lori and Carl's death. They spent the night on the coach, Rick lounged out with his head in the younger one's lap. He stroked through Rick's hair until he fell asleep and gradually, he did as well. 

In the early morning neither of them had gotten much sleep but Rick had put on his clothes anyways and had insisted on leaving. It was only six in the morning but Daryl followed. It was the first time since Rick had been locked up that he got to see their graves. 

Daryl watched as he crumpled to his knees when they found the headstones in the graveyard. The mans fingers curled into the grass, digging into the dirt and his head hung low. Daryl stood back, his heart aching for the family; The two graves and the lone man that was left behind. He could hear Rick muttering after awhile and his throat got tight after he realized that he was talking to Lori and Carl and he stayed back, knowing that he shouldn't intrude. 

After an hour they walked back to the car and Daryl reached over, intertwining their hands together. 

 

\---------------

 

On that day Rick went to work. Daryl had asked him if he was sure a million times but he was determined to go to work despite the day on the calendar. Daryl had a late start to his own day for landscaping with some scheduling changes and so he dropped Rick off, watching as the man walked off towards the Greene house. 

The Greene farm had been a blessing and Rick had been working there for awhile now. Maggie was strong and she knew what she wanted and Rick always listened, always ready to work. They made a good pair, especially when Herschel was overseeing them. 

He wasn't sure what had happened that day but when they both got home Rick was a bit lighter. He wondered if it was because of Herschel. Rick and Herschel had always gotten along well, always had a good understanding of each other and he considered that it might be over similar grief. They'd both lost a wife, both lost a son. 

That evening Rick pulled a book out of a box. Lori's book. Daryl watched from the doorway with fond eyes as Rick smoothed his fingers over the beaten cover and gave a small smile before placing it in the book case in their room.

 

\---------------

 

Things were okay for a little while. They settled into their routines, both bringing home paychecks now but trouble eventually knocks at their door. 

It's nearing midnight when it happens and they're both in bed. Instinctively Ricks arm tightens around him and the older one is pushing himself up onto his elbows, eyes narrowing in the dark. 

Daryl grumbles, "Who the fuck is knocking.. Midnight," He repeats when he sees the clock. "You've gotta be shitting me." 

Rick stiffens and pushes Daryl onto the mattress when he tries to get up. "No, I'll check." 

"Rick-" 

"No. Stay in bed." Rick's eyes are darker, his body is tense. 

"Darlina, you in there?" Comes a drunken holler. And like that the tension deflates. 

"You've gotta be kidding me," Daryl mutters to himself, throwing back the covers and fighting off Ricks grabby hands. "It's fine, it's my brother. Just-- Stay- No! You stay in here," He says when he sees Ricks expression. 

The man huffs and crosses his arms but listens, staying on the bed as the other gets out of the room and to the door. He does not look amused when he opens it. The scent of alcohol hits him near immediately and his jaw clenches. 

"That fuck are you doing here?" 

"Well, shit. That ain't no way to treat your kin, boy. What, you think that just 'cause you're outt'a the joint that you're all high and mighty? Ol' Merle will knock you down a few pegs." Merle's obviously been drinking and so he pushes at Daryl's chest. 

"I'd suggest stepping back." And that's Rick. Of course it's Rick. Rick with his deadly eyes and scowl that he knows is dangerous but Merle.. Merle doesn't know. 

"Fuck," He breathes. "Seriously? Man, I told you to stay back in the room." 

"In the room? What's this guy doing staying with you? Now.. Now wait here, this one looks familiar." Merle takes a step closer. "Hey, I get it. You're the guy from the prison. You were Darlina's cellmate, right?" 

Rick grits his teeth, hand on Daryl's arm. "His name is Daryl," He growls out. 

And that's when Merle takes a step back to look. To really, really look. The fellow with the greying stubble is standing close to his brother. Very, very close. And they're both in their boxers and t-shirt. 

His eyes widen, "Now wait here a minute. You don't mean to tell me that you're - That you two-- " He snarls, "You trying to say that you're a fag?" 

Daryl stiffens and it's all too much and he turns to walk away. 

Merle lunges and Rick lunges in turn and they all clash in a jumble. 

In the end Daryl gets a black eye, Rick has a bruised cheek and Merle's lip is split and bleeding. 

Daryl and Rick stand together, strong. "I know why you're here, it's why you're always coming around for. You need a place to stay, or ya need money. But.. But I ain't hiding here. Ain't hiding in my own house." 

Merle says nothing and so they leave him alone in their living room as they go back to their bedroom. They can hear the elder Dixon cursing and muttering to himself but the front door never opens, signaling that he's staying.

That's the night that Daryl finally explains the scars on his back. Not many words are exchanged, they know each other too much for that. They sleep together, intertwined with Ricks hand laying over a thick scar that runs the whole span of his back. That night Ricks eyes were a dangerous shade of rage, promising that it would never happen again.

In the morning Daryl wakes up to see Merle and Rick standing in the small kitchen, talking in muttered tones. It's not perfect but it's something and when Merle gets the money that he's came here for he hesitates at the door, looking Daryl over. 

"I don't get it." 

Daryl cocked a brow. 

"Don't get it. Not gonna pretend like I get it. But.. If you two wanna .. " Merle's nose scrunched up in feint rage. "Touch each other's dicks I can't stop ya. I already told him what's gonna happen to him if he hurts ya." 

It feels like acceptance.

 

\---------------

 

"Rick, damn it. We have to get ready." 

The man sighed from his spot on the bed, watching Daryl go around and try to put on clothes that resembled something appropriate enough for a wedding. "We've got time." 

Daryl looked over, narrowing his eyes. Rick's on the bed, stretched out and bare under the sheet.

Eventually his resolve breaks and Daryl settles himself into his lap. "You're acting like ya didn't have your dick in my ass an hour ago." 

Rick breathed out a laugh, his face buried in Daryl's shoulder as he grinded upwards. "I'm acting like I love you." 

The Dixon smiled, fisting a hand in the mans wild, curly hair. "Well, love me at the wedding. If you make it through the whole thing you might even get lucky tonight." They both shared a laugh but there's something lurking in Rick's eyes. Worry. 

"You gonna tell me what's wrong or not?" 

"You aren't.. Worried? About what people are gonna say?" 

"And what are they gonna be saying?" 

Rick sighed, body still. "That you're too young for me. Too good," He murmured, his fingertips running over Daryl's bare arms. "And they'll have a point. They'll be right." 

Daryl's jaw clenched and his fingertips tightened in Rick's hair, making him look at him. "Don't start this shit with me, Grimes." He huffed, glaring. "Don't matter much to me what people think. Shouldn't matter to you either, 'specially when that shit ain't true." 

Rick frowned and opened his mouth to argue and Daryl cut in again. 

"No. It don't matter." He dipped down to kiss the man, mumbling against his lips. "I love you." 

Then he abruptly pulled back and walked off. "Get on some pants, we're leaving in ten." 

In the end people did stare and some of them did mutter when they saw Rick's hand at Daryl's back or the way that they intimately whispered to each other, fingers smoothing over hands. They muttered when they saw Rick's beard that had greys in it and Daryl's still golden brown hair but none of that mattered because Maggie looked stunning in her dress and Glenn stuttered over his vows in a way that made everyone forget the bad in the world for a moment.

It didn't matter because Rick held put a hand over Daryl's thigh through the ceremony. It felt sincere and true and like a promise.

 

\---------------

 

They spent three years in that small apartment together until Rick brought home a dog one day. 

It was a small thing, just a pup. It looked miserable, soaked and so small but clinging to Rick's warm body as the man held it close. 

"I was finishing up at the farm and it was starting to rain and I .. I heard this little guy and I couldn't." 

Daryl didn't have to ask what he couldn't do because it was clear. He couldn't leave it out to die. 

The two of them stayed with the dog all night, drying him, warming him up, feeding him. The dog lived through the night and the next night, and the next week and it was already decided that they would keep it. 

Eventually the landlord told them that they could either keep their dog and leave the building or get rid of him and stay. 

"Guess we ought'a start looking for a different place," The younger one decided and Rick's full smile was worth it. 

The three of them settled in a house a few miles out of town, small but comfortable and surrounded by the woods. The pit bull mix turned out to be a sweetheart that followed them nearly everywhere and became a dog that Rick even took out to the farm with him sometimes. They named him Winston. Their nights were quiet, comfortable. Merle still caused trouble, Rick still had night terrors but they always got through it. 

They'd both lost in their lifetime but they'd managed to gain something big as well. The thought made Daryl smile to himself as he sat on the couch with Rick by his side and Winston by their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hard to believe that this is the end. This is the longest story that I've ever written and it wouldn't have been possible without all of the support that you all gave me so thank you so, so, so much! I hoped you all enjoyed getting a peak at their future as much as I liked writing it. Leave a comment letting me know what ya thought or a kudos if ya enjoyed. Thanks again all! :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I did a lot of research on this but sorry if everything is not completely accurate. Hope you liked it, leave a kudos if ya did and a comment telling me what you think. Thanks!:) Not sure if I'll continue but either way it was fun writing this!
> 
> Also, fun fact, it's against the rules to have a beard in a Georgia prison. 
> 
> And I got my title from a song by Jonny Cash/ also the Halsey cover.


End file.
